


The Gift

by wolf_noita03



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, after the war of the others, arya 15 when jon left for the wall, arya returns to westeros, jon was 19 when he left for the wall, jon/arya au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-12
Updated: 2015-02-21
Packaged: 2018-02-17 13:43:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 25,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2311670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolf_noita03/pseuds/wolf_noita03
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A blanket of darkness began to descend upon the northern sky now. He looked up but saw no stars, and no moon. He knew it would be a black night.........</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hi! hope u all enjoy this came to me one night....poem is my own.

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_Let me be the light you seek_

_When the fires engulf you_

_Let me be the ice that soothes and heals_

_When all seems false_

_Let me show you the truth_

_When everyone has turned their backs from you_

_Mine will be the face staring towards you_

_When all is lost and memories have been forgotten_

_Let me in and I will remind you_

_When your sadness becomes too much to bare_

_Let the sound of my laughter fill the air_

_And finally when the time comes to let go_

_I will be right beside you, no longer will you be alone......_

                                                                                                           The Gift

                                                                               

He had forgotten what it was like to dream, for dreaming was for men who had something to live for. He no longer smiled, laughed, nor looked to the morning light with awaited breath. Nor for the soft falling of white snowflakes from the skies, to soothe the constant burning of his own flesh.

 At first the burning of his own skin had become too much for him to take. He would scream for hours on end for it all to stop, he would plead to the red priestess for his end to come. But it had not, and slowly as days passed, he began to notice that it was not hurting as much as the day before, and so on.  Till one morning he had awoken and was able to sit and walk, and talk. He no longer felt the pain as much.

The red witch had told him he had passed the test, and he was the true chosen one, but he could not make any sense of what she was saying. He was alive, and had never felt more so until then. There was a power in him that sparked.

He had cut down all his enemies – the white walkers – as people had called them, one by one. He would remember how there blue eyes had widen with fear at the sight of him and then anger would flash in them, as they charged at him in great numbers. His own brothers stood still near him, keeping their own distance froom the white-walkers and him.

But he had not stood still. There was no fear in his eyes, only anger as he charged at them full on. The blackness in his own eyes burned darker. His own pale white skin shone brighter as the light of the moon hit his face.

Once the white-walkers had been pushed back into the darkness that they had come from, he began to notice how people reacted around to him. The friends, that he had once called brothers, had remained at the beginning, but they too slowly began to dwindle in number. He saw their eyes, the way they would flinch and stare at him. They grew more and more distant and he realised that they were afraid of him. He tried to show them that he was still the same, but people were too afraid to listen or stand next to him. They did not know what to make of him or what to do with him. Even the red witch had no answers for him _. What do you with someone who is neither living nor is dead_?

He was alone but he had grown accustomed to it now. The loneliness was a part of his life now. If that was what you could call it. He had always been silent, only speaking when he really needed to. But now the silence grew longer. He had no one. Did he have a family? He no longer knew the answer to that.

There were times when he would be standing alone on top of the great white wall of ice and he would recall some memory of a girl with fire in her hair, but he could not remember the name or who she was. Other times he would see a young boy, almost a man grown, waiting in the yard hauling things, with melted snow in his hair, or a boy lying in a bed and someone crying, another girls voice singing whilst she sat and brushed a wolfs hair. Or he would see a man, with sorrow in his grey eyes. But these memories were now beginning to fade and becoming more and more vague as time continued.

Yet, out of all the fading memories, there was one that refused to fade, coming to him unbidden, haunting him even in his sleep. A young girl’s laughter, as she slaps his hand away from her hair. Her face had faded, but her eyes remained. _Grey._

They watched him even now. Piercing into his own eyes, searching for something or someone that they had both lost.

He hated this memory most of all. As much as he tried to push it out, it still tormented him, and fuelled his rage. It weakened him, reminding him that he had a past. A past, that he would sooner forget.

He shook his head and got up from his bed, and put on his clothes. It was almost dark and his watch would begin soon.

He walked out of his icy cave, and made his way to the wall. He could smell the fear of men, and he relished init. There was nothing more powerful then fear, and they all feared him. Of what he had become. They hated him because they did not know what to make of him. Their fear of the unknown had limited their minds to such great possibilities. _But not his!_

They could hate him if they wanted, and they could try and kill him again if they had wished too. He did not care anymore. At times he wished he would just die. Those were the times when the flames burned to hot, that he wished and prayed to the silence that they would just engulf him till nothing remind but dust.  Then the white winds could carry him away.

He passed other men from the Nights Watch, as they all stood and watched him, none wanting to catch his eyes. Even the laughter of children had died down. He looked at the great towers of the Nights Watch. _It had once housed a giant, and men had been afraid of that too, until they had something far greater to fear. Sadly the giant had fled; the last of its kind._

He quietly made his way up the wall alone. Reaching the top he counted only four men standing guard. He stepped onto the hard frozen ice and walked towards the edge of the wall. The remaining four men had already started making their way back down. _He would stand his watch alone._ It was better this way. He liked the silence; it was like a shadow, that he paid no heed too.

A blanket of darkness began to descend upon the northern sky now. He looked up but saw no stars, and no moon. He knew it would be a black night.

He stood there looking out to the far reaches of the north; as far as his eyes would enable him to see. Nothing stirred. At the foot of the wall he could see a white wind rising up from the ground, and he watched in silence as it twisted and whirled up and up to reach him. It curled around his feet, moving up flapping the wings of his long thick black cloak, as it blew in his face and rustled his black curly hair. It danced around his face, and he heard a young girls’ laughter, and then the laughter stopped, the only name it whispered was _Jon Snow......._


	2. Chapter 2

_The scent of fresh kill filled her nostrils, and she ate greedily. She knew other members of her pack were watching and waiting for their fill but they would have to wait. She was the alpha female of this pack so she went first. The stag had been easy to kill. She had stalked the herd a few days ago catching their scent. This one had been young, and seemed to have something to prove. Mating season would be upon them soon. Her pack had already eaten not long ago, but when the stag went to charge one of her wolf cousins, she struck. Clamping her jaws on to the stag’s neck she snapped it with one violent snap of her jaw. The stag never had a chance. Her cousins howled yet she had not taken pleasure in the kill, it was simply a matter of duty. **Wolves were not prey!** She would not let any member of her pack be harmed. There was too few of them now. _

_Letting out a howl the rest of the pack quietened. Once she had eaten she moved away allowing the rest of her pack to feast upon the carcass, while she layed down to lick the blood off her paws. Her hunger and thirst satisfied. As she watched her pack eat she sat up. This was her pack. Here she was the alpha, and the real predator........_

Arya awoke stretching her arms outwards and yawned. Her arm hit something laying beside her, and she heard it give a moan. She turned her body towards the figure that lay beside her on the bed. He had black hair, and a chiselled jaw, a stern look to him even as he slept. She watched his face scrunch up for a moment then it relaxed. She saw his mouth begin to curl into a smile. She liked that mouth on hers. The way his lips felt pressed against her own. She leaned into the figure now resting her bare breasts onto his own naked chest, and reached up to kiss his lips. He in return kissed her back; gently at first then more urgently. She bit his lip and he pulled away!

“Arya!” he whispered bringing his hand to his lip, and opening his eyelids, revealing deep blue eyes that stared at her in disbelief again.

“I’m bleeding” was all he said as he rolled his eyes.

“Sorry Gendry. I just can not help it. When you kiss me like that I do not know what happens to me”, she said reaching over for a napkin and sitting on his lap, as she patted his lip. Oh my! She thought to herself she really had drawn blood. What was getting into her lately?

He put his hands on her hips, as she finished wiping the blood. “I have a council meeting in ten minutes that I must attend to, so if you can please climb off me”, he said. Now he was annoyed she could tell. It was not her fault. It was his. For kissing her like that. If he could not take it then he should not start it. She refused to get off him. Instead she gently rocked her own hips, rubbing her sex on his cock which had already begun to harden. She could see the look of shock on his face.

“Arya I really do not have time to do this right now. I have to get up”, he said, but making no effort to push her off either.

“I’d say you’re up already”, she said smiling down at him, as she watched his eyes dart to her breasts, then her vagina.

“Arya you will be the death of me”, he said shifting her off just a little then placing her down on his now already hard cock. She let out a moan, as she began to ride him. Slowly at first, then a little faster as she watched him close his eyes and mutter “Arya” under his breath. She placed her hands on his chest as he squeezed one of her breast with his hand while the other grabbed her ass cheek and squeezed it hard. This sent a wave of pleasure down to Aryas’ sex, and she rode him a little faster and harder. She layed on top of him slightly still up, as she went to kiss his shoulder but heard him say “ no biting”, so she just stopped as he sat straight up with his cock still inside her, and sucked on her nipple. Moving from one, to the other. Throwing her head back he kissed her neck. Then pulled himself out, to lay her on the bed, spreading her legs open, he pushed his cock inside her again kissing her gently on the mouth, and face as she wrapped her legs around him he licked her neck. She could feel his pace quicken and she knew he was about to come. She rocked her own hips trying to find pleasure in his rhythm, but a few seconds later he pulled out spilling himself all on her stomach. She smiled at him as she watched him get up and clean her with a cloth.

“You do not have to do that Gendry I can clean it up myself”, she said.

“Oh, would you mind? I am sorry but I will be running late for this damn council meeting”, he said getting off her and placing the cloth in her hand. She wiped away his seed, being careful not to let any near her unsatisfied vagina. She watched him frantically looking for his clothes that had been strewn across the floor the night before. When he had sneaked into her chambers. She let a smile creep to her lips. A king sneaking into his own fiancés room. For goodness sake he was the king! Of most of Westeros! Yet he still had to sneak around.

“I am glad you are finding this amusing Arya, uncle Stannis will have my head on a Spike”, he said pulling his tunic over his head.

“Uncle Stannis is not the king, you are Gendry! Sometimes I think you forget that. Let them wait. Let them all wait, for that matter. You are their king, not their servant or their maid”, she said getting off the bed and handing him his clothes.

“I know Arya, but a good king listens to his council, and I will not be like my father who hardly attended any”, he said with hate in his voice. Arya had nothing to say about that. He was right Robert hardly even attended any meetings, and what he had done to Lady she would never forgive him for that. It was his fault that her father mother, Rob had died. She blamed him for Lady’s death too, because he was not the king he was supposed to be. He was not the big hero her father had them stories about. He was just some fat man who came to Winterfell one day and took all her happiness away from her. If he had not made her father the hand, Jon would not have left for the wall, and they would not have left for Kings Landing. She would still be back home with her family.

She saw Gendry watching her, and she blinked the tears away. She would never cry in front of him. **_She was a wolf, and wolves did not cry!_**

 _“They do not mate with stags either”._ The image of her dream came back to her. Nymeria feasting on a stag. She shook her head, as she felt the bile reach her throat. It would not do good to throw up on Gendry.

He reached down and kissed her gently on the forehead, then winced. He put his finger to his lip.

“It has swollen has it not?” asking her but not really wanting an answer. She bit her own bottom lip, her eyebrows knitting together on her forehead.

“Just a bit, just tell them you had gotten hurt while sword practising with one of the guards”, she said gently wrapping her arms around his neck and reaching up to kiss him. But he unwraps her arms, and takes a step back.

“I do not think any of them believed me the last time, I better go”, he said. Turning towards the door, he walks back to her and kisses her on the lips.

“Gods I love you Arya, even though you intend on having me more for a meal then a lover,” he laughs and she nudges him with her elbow and laughs.

“How am I to help it if when I kiss you, you are so mouth-watering I want to taste you more and more”, she smiles back. The image of her dream appeared again and she shuddered.

“You really are more wild then I think I canhandle, nor this kingdom, whatever shall I do with you?” a gleam in his eyes. Three knocks on the door and he pulls away. It was Horris; one of the Kings guards.

“I believe that is my queue to leave. I shall see you later on this evening. Be good” and he opens the door and leaves her in the room alone. As she begins to put her clothes back on she cannot believe that she is back here in kings landing. This place holds too many ghosts for her even with Gendry here, the ghosts remain.

How she had wished many times she had found a ship that took her straight to the north, to the wall, but they would not go that way. Non would dare. Fear of the monster that guarded the wall. A monster? Jon? The nearest she could get to was the trident, where she happened on Gendry. He was still the same but he had a mission himself. With a lot of men he stormed the keep of Kings Landing and took the iron throne. She could still not believe that he was Roberts true son. But looking at him she sees the resemblance, though Gendry will have none of it. He hates it when people say he looks like his father. A father that he had never known.

She had longed to go back to winterfell, but with Sansa staying as Regent of the North until Rickon turned of age, Sansa thought a marriage alliance would be good. To honour fathers’ agreement that one daughter should at least marry Roberts son, and she was reminded Gendry was nothing like Joffery who was never the true heir to begin with. So she stayed.

Not a day went by though when she did not think about the people that she longed to see, the castle she had once called home, the big grey fortress that stood. To see the place she had grown up in, to run down the halls once again. To see her family; just once. To be able to sit with Sansa and Rickon and wait for Bran to return. Bran who now was an old god. She still could not believe it. He little brother Bran who she used to carry in her arms. An old god! Mother always said he was special. She had been right. At least they were all safe now. No one would ever hurt them again. They had one another now, but she was all alone. Her and Jon. Her heart began to ache as the memories of Jon filled her head. A strange yet familiar feeling.

How she longed to see Jon. To see him smile. To hear him talk and laugh with her, to finish their sentences together. Fro him to muss up her hair. She longed to tell Jon of all her travels. He was the one person that would never judge her. Who would always accept her. No matter what she had done.

 _“Different roads sometimes lead to the same castle”_ he had once said, before turning away and leaving her all alone. How she had wished her road would lead to his castle soon. How she had tried to get to him. But the more she tried the further her road took her from him. Till there was no more roads but an ocean laid between them.

While she had been serving for the house of Black and White she had heard in the taverns how a great mutiny had taken place on the wall. Some lord commander was killed by his very own men. Stabbed a few hundred times. She paid no heed; rumours were like tall tales. Until they mentioned it was Ned Stark’s bastard. She remembered how her world had suddenly come crashing down on her. How she heard a wolf howl from somewhere and knew it was calling her to come back. So she did just that. She came back. But being here she had heard even stranger tales. Of Jon being brought back to life by some red priestess. Others claimed he was the Great Other, and that the wall was being attacked by the Wights. She had heard tales of how Jon yielded a red sword which breathed flames of fire; cutting down all the Wights and the Others.

If the rumours held true then he should have been a hero. Songs should have been written about him. Her dear Jon. But monster was all they called him. How people feared him. He was all alone again. Her Jon.

He was always the one she would run to when feeling anxious or sad, and he would simply smile at her and that was all it took. Jons’ smile had the power to make all her worries disappear. Jon never shared his feelings with anyone fair Rob sometimes. Though he had never needed to tell her if something was wrong she just knew. Her quiet silent Jon. If they were back in Winterfell they would have had each other and that would have been enough for her. But she was stuck in Kings Landing, and he was on some great big frozen wall, looking down upon the world. All alone.

A knock on the door brought her back to the spot she had been standing.

“Come in” she said, turning to the door. It was one of the maids, who was holding a tray for breaking her fast.

“Good morning my lady, where shall I put this?” She said bowing down.

“Just over on that table is fine thank you, and please call me Arya”, she said smiling. She had not grown accustomed to being called my lady. It made her stomach turn, and not in the good way.

“Yes my lady, I mean arya I mean”, the maid began to get flustered. Oh! If Jon could see this now, he would be standing in some corner dying to laugh, she would too, and then she would have to punch him on the arm! She missed him, gods how she missed him.

“My lady, I mean Arya! I mean what shall I do with these papers my lady”, she asked again. Arya gave up.

“Oh they must be the kings papers for the wedding; leave them there I need to see about the seating arrangement anyway. Thank you, that will be all” she said making her way to the table as the maid left the room closing the door behind her.

She was getting married. If Jon knew! Had news even reached him that she was to wed? She could have seen it now, he would laugh and laugh. Then he would run to his brothers and show them the letter; of his little sister getting married. He would tell them how she was nothing like a proper lady at all. More wildling then a lady. His little sister. Only she was not his little sister no more. She was his cousin. He was a Targaryean prince, the rightful heir to the Throne. A claim he had refused. He should have been the one who sat on the Throne. He would have made a great king. Then he could have sat down with her and they would have broken their fast together. He would not have left her to go to some council meeting. Not after being away from one another for so long. Not after losing so much. She sat down alone to break her fast.

As she ate the fruit laid down she sifted through the papers, and came across a letter with a seal broken. She looked at it and recognised that it was the seal they used at the nights watch. Her heart began to race as she realised it could be a letter from Jon. Her Jon. With her fingers trembling and a smile on her face she opened the letter eagerly, reading as quick as she could. But her smile soon faded as she read on realising it was not from Jon; but about Jon.

Her appetite had left her and instead her rage fuelled her. She looked at the date that the letter had been sent. Two weeks ago! That would mean Gendry had kept this from her. How dare he! She was not some southron lady who would take this lightly.

Storming out of her chambers she ran towards the hall where the council were meeting. They would not be finished yet, but she did not care. From somewhere deep within her mind she reached out for Nymeria. She had to be ready with her pack. As she reached the heavy oak doors, two of the Kings Guards stood there, looking at her questioningly.

“I demand you step aside, so that I may enter and speak to the king”, she said, as politely as she could muster. “Sorry my lady, the king has given us orders that no one must enter while they are in council, not even you”, one guard said uncomfortably.

 _Not even me! Oh Gendry! How dare he?_ Taking a deep breath she began to shout “ Gendry, Gendry, I know you are in there ,and I demand you open these doors at once or so help me I will break them down”, _somehow_ she thought! She knew the guards were looking at her as if she had gone mad, and perhaps she had, but she did not care.

The doors began to open. One by one she saw the council leave bowing their heads down to her, as she trailed into the hall looking at the iron throne where Gendry now sat. Just like his father had. There were times where he looked so much like his father, that she feared he may become like Robert one day; and that scared her.

“Arya?” he says questioningly as she approaches the foot of the throne. She sees his eyes flicker at the papers in her hands then he puts his hand on his head. “ So that is where I had left them”, he said casually. In fact, he had said it so casually that for an instant she wondered whether he had actually read them. If he had not read them, then she had just made a complete fool of herself. He would put a stop to this at once. _Would he not?_

“Gendry, have you seen what is written in this letter? About what they want you to do with Jon?”she asked, all the while searching his face, for some indication that he had not read the letter.

“Arya, what will you have me do? The Nights Watch do not want him there. They are afraid of him. Of what he has become,” he resided. So he had read the letter! “Why did you not tell me before Gendry? You know he cannot leave his post until he dies -----“

“But he had died, damn it Arya! He died. Just like Beric had died. Just like your lady mother had died. But they were brought back. You saw it. Of what became of them. That is not living. Is that what you want for Jon? You beloved Jon”, he said, and she heard it then. The hatred in his tone for a person he had hardly met. “Gendry ------ you hardly know him, how can you hate him so much------“,

“I hardly know him? Really Arya? The only thing you speak of when you speak of your family is Jon this, and Jon that. Honestly Arya, have you never heard yourself when you speak of him, or see how your face lights up when you recall something you and Jon did? Because I have”, he said more angrily.

“Gendry, are you jealous? Because I love you, Jon is my brother –

“But he is not is he? Not anymore. Not for one moment have i forgotten who he really is. The blood that courses through his veins” he shouted, standing up now, and climbing down the steps towards her.

Arya takes a step back. To hear the venom in his voice when he spoke of Jon being a Taragaryean. It was as if she was hearing Roberts voice. Her heart began to race. What had Gendry decided was to be done with Jon? She realised now he saw Jon as a threat not because he was jealous. Jon was the true heir to the throne. Rhagears son, legitimised by Daenarys, before she gave up the throne to Gendry. That was the condition. Gendry had no choice but to obey, because he wanted the throne. The power.

Keeping her voice calm, she says “ what will you do with Jon?”, she needed to know, before she made her next move. But she already knew what he would do. He would tell her one thing but do another.

Nymeria was too far away to reach her and they would kill her before she got to her. She would not risk Nymerias’ safety. She was a lone wolf in enemy camp. She was trapped. She had to play it cool. “Be calm as still water”, came Syrios voice, and so she obeyed.

“Arya, I do not hate him, but I cannot have him running wild on the wall. I am sending my men on the morrow to request him to leave the wall immediatley, if he does not then I will be left with no other choice then to take matters into my own hands. The kings justice will be kept”, he spoke so calmy. She felt sick as she thought of him last night sleeping in her bed came to her, how they had fucked in the night and the morning after.

He had longed for an excuse to get rid of Jon and now he had one. She had been sleeping with the enemy all this time.

“Please Gendry, do not do this, go down yourself and see what is what, rather than sending your men, or ask Sansa to meet him, she will tell you herself. She is regent of the north this matter is hers to deal with”, she said almost begging him.

“Sansa has had the opportunity to deal with this. She went to see Jon but he did not listen to her Arya. He went as far as to threaten to have her thrown out if she had not left by her own will”, he said now exasperated.

“He would never do that Gend-----“,

“So your sister is lying? Is that what you are saying? Everyone else is lying?” he looks at her but then puts both his hands on her shoulders. “I know you wish for him to be the person he once was Arya but he is not. When you have died and you are brought back you are not quite the same, I have witnessed it”, he says more softly. His eyes softening a little.

“Let me see him, please, I know that if I were to talk to him he would listen”, she pleads.

“Arya I know you feel that you have a special bond with Jon, but that person has gone. He has gone forever and you will never get him back, and I would rather spare you the anguish of seeing him the way he is now. You have seen too many of your loved ones dead. Remember him the way he was Arya. For your own sanity you need to let Jon go. It is for the best”, he says, and she thinks almost for a second that he genuinely holds concern for her. That it is the love he has for her. And she breaks down in his arms, holding him tight.

 _But its Jon!_ she whispers in her head.

“Arya. I know this is hard for you, but I must do what I must do. I did not tell you because I knew it would hurt you, and I would rather never see you cry, you are far too precious to me for that. Please understand i am doing this all for us. Besides we have a wedding to plan for you will soon be a part of my family Arya, and I cannot have my bride be sad”, she feels his arms wrap her tighter, and for a moment she begins to let herself melt into his arms. She closes her eyes, and thinks of Jon, one last time she says.

_Unbidden a wolf howls, calling to the morning light, then she hears a chorus of howling, but her ears prick up to listen to one sound. One distinct sound. But it never comes. So she howls again. A sad and lonely one this time. Nymeria!_

She pulls away from Gendry. He looks at her confused. “Arya what is the matter?” he asks her looking at her face.

“I need to go back to my chambers and clean myself up. I have wedding to plan”, she says letting her face fall into the mask she had worn so long ago. “You are right Gendry. You are always right. I do need to let go” she says.

“Arya I love you” he kisses her then and Arya can feel the bile begin to rise in her throat, yet she kisses him back, long and hard. Not letting him suspect. Another role she will have to play. As she breaks free, she leaves him standing there. Watching her leave the room. _He will always stand there, waiting for her to come back;_ but she will not. There was no time. She hurries down to her chambers and locks the door behind her. Pulling a loose floor board out, she feels around until her hand grasps something wrapped in old cloth. Carefully taking it out, she unfolds the package and something gleams bright in her face. Holding it she feels the point, checks the balance.

 _“Its so skinny”_ she hears _“so are you”_ comes the reply.

 _"You'll have to work at it everyday"._ Standing up she begins to practise.


	3. Chapter 3

**Gendry**

He watched his fiancé walk out the doors of the great hall. Gods he had loved her, and that he thought would never change but this thing with Jon Snow, he could not let it pass. He was a king! He had done all this for her, yet he still could not reach her.  He still could not get to that one part of her heart that she kept closed.  As he stood in the great hall he recalled the day they had first met.

 _It was_ _down by the docks in Kings Landing. She was such a scrawny little thing, and at first he had thought, like everybody else, that she was a boy. She was so dirty, and scrawny, and looked as if she had not been cared for days. But when he had looked at her; really looked at her he saw that she was no boy.  But a girl. He would never have thought that she was some highborn lady. She never acted as such.  But then once he realised she was a girl he trusted none of the other men with her. He understood why Yoren had kept her a secret. The rest of the men that were travelling with them, were thieves, murderers, and rapists._

_He had not realised how much he had cared about her until she had been stolen from him though. How many days and nights he had waited for any news of the hound being found with a boy. That she was safe. But no news had reached him and he had almost forgotten about that young girl named Arya Stark, until he chanced upon her on the Trident, dressed in breeches and a shirt tucked into her trousers. Her hair cut short. He had to look at her twice before he realised who she was. But those grey eyes when met his, they had recognised him and that was all he needed. He had run to her then, calling her every name she had called herself while they had travelled together._

_He remembered the way she had looked at him, her face giving away nothing. As he reached her she just looked behind him so he did the only thing he could think of. He grabbed her and kissed her. Right on the lips in front of everyone. Behind him he could hear men laughing saying he was kissing some lad, but he did not care, because she was kissing him back, with her arms around his neck._

_“Gendry” she had whispered in between breathless kisses and he smiled and laughed and hugged her even tighter. Once they had stopped kissing he faced his uncle only to see the disbelieved and disgusted look on his uncles face._

_Arya realising what the men where jeering about , had said in a non lady like manner – “ I am not a boy, u  twats! I am a girl” Gendry just smiled at her. In that moment in time he had been the happiest man ever._

_Stannis Baratheon’s jaw had dropped. He was completely shocked; Gendry knew. Without saying anything he stormed into his own tent and Gendry followed with Arya’s hand in his._

_“Well...?” was all Stannis Baratheon had said._

_“Uncle this is Arya Stark, Ned Starks youngest daughter. We had met whilst travelling together, but the hound had stolen her, and I had not seen her since”, he said carefully. He had not wanted to upset his new found uncle. He knew his uncle was a stern man but an honest and fair one to that._

_“This is Arya Stark? Ned Starks daughter?” He said sounding disbelieved._

_They both nodded in unison._

_“Then who the bloody hell was the girl we had left to go north of the bloody wall for”? He asked in a shrill disbelief._

_“The wall? You were at the wall?”, it was the first time Arya had spoken to his uncle, and he looked at her, concentrating on her face but then looked at her eyes._

_“You have the eyes, grey like your fathers. Like the bastards. In fact you look a bit like him. You sure you are not a bastard either”, he said smiling. It was not a nice smile. Gendry did not think that Stannis Baratheon knew how to smile._

_“You met Jon?” was all Arya said. Her face a mask. He should have suspected then, but he had not._

_“Yes I met him. Stupid lad. He could have had the whole North. Could have been the prince of Winterfell had he denounced his old gods and accepted the god of fire. But he had said no. So I left him at the wall while I went to save Winterfell and bring his sister Arya back to him. He could have been the lord of Winterfell, he could have been here by my side right now, but no. Instead he went and got himself almost killed. And for what? I had told him I would bring back his little sister Arya. But no he could not wait.”_

_“I had heard” was all she said more softly now._

_“Ay well once I had freed Winterfell from the Bolton’s claim, I went back to the wall only to find a bloody mutiny going on, and that bastard lord commander Jon Snow had gone missing along with my priestess. Apparently he was the bloody Prince that was Promised, so I came here instead.” he said sitting down and staring at them both._

_“What? Jon had ran off? Jon would never break his vows. Never. He would never run off with a priestess”, she said calmly, but squeezing Gendrys hand tighter. He could tell she was trying to control her anger. It would not go down well if she were to offend his uncle. But before he could say anything his uncle had spoken._

_“Well he did, and I left him and the people at the wall to deal with the others. Let them have their bloody prince that was promised, and I came here, with the few men I had left” he said sitting down at his table._

_“You left Jon?” was all she asked._

_“Ay I did, and if you had seen the things I had seen you would have fled, and fast. I thought I would never have had to see the old stories come true but there they were, all ice, and statue like, with eyes flashing the coldest of blues. Thousands of them” his voice distancing away as he spoke. Gendry seized his opportunity to talk now._

_“So uncle came here to free Kings Landing, now is the best opportunity than ever, and that is where he had found me. Together we will storm the gates and take back the throne from the Lannisters, and make them pay for all the injustice they have done”._

_Arya just looked at them both. Her expression was completely blank._

_“Join us Arya. With you by our side we could strengthen our course even more”, he asked almost pleadingly._

_“You are going to go to Kings Landing”. It was more of a statement then a question._

_“Yes. So hurry up girl and decide. Will you fight with us?” Stannis asked._

_“Yes” she smiled, her eyes looking straight at Stannins Baratheon, then back at himself. “ But first there is someone I need to meet” she said._

_“Who?” They had both asked._

_“A very dear friend, that I had lost”, and with that she let go of Gendry’s s hand and walked out of the tent. He had remembered standing there, for a few minutes then uncle Stannis said “well go after her”, so he had run and searched but could not find her anywhere._

_Two days had passed, and he had begun to wonder whether it had all been a dream, until on the third night he heard the biggest uproar coming from the camp site._

_Men were shouting “Wolves! Wolves! They have come for us”, but it was only the North men who stood silent and bowed their heads. He looked towards their direction, and what he saw would have sent a shiver down his spine, had he not recognised the figure, that stood there._

_There just before the tents, stood the biggest wolf he had seen. Bigger then a pony it was. And stood by its side was Arya! Then a hundred or more so wolves stood behind them. Snarling and baring their teeth. Gendry had never seen such a sight. The great she wolf of the trident stood before them her head held high and not one single man stood to challenge her._

_He looked towards his uncle, whose face gave away nothing. Turning to face Gendry, he said “ this is no fucking circus. Get rid of them”._

_Before Gendry could reply the she wolf howled which pierced the night like a knife. No man including Stannis moved._

_As Arya walked towards the camp her eyes firmly on Stannis Baratheon, but not giving anything away, the she wolf stalked behind her casting a shadow like a giant._

_“These wolves have as much right to be here than any one of you or men”, she addressed Stannis._

_“Hmmm, and how do you figure that?” he huffed._

_“My brother Rob and his wolf Greywind. Do you not recall what they had done to them?” Stannis said nothing. A silence clung to the air like a wet blanket on skin._

_“Ay I remember. Your father was a good man. We will fight for you with your wolves. Arya Stark” said one of the men whilst puffing his chest up.  Arya turned to him and gave her head a single nod._

_Then a chorus of men shouted “The North remembers!” and the wolves howled._

_The same man turned to Stannis then saying, “We will fight if Arya Stark is with us and her direwolf. The direwolf is the sigil of house Stark, and if the rumours are true which I see they are these wolves have no fear of men! They are soldiers and probably more honourable then most of these sell swords you have here” said the same man._

_Stannis Baratheon eyed up the man, then Arya Stark, then the wolves. Frowning he said nothing but nodded his head and said “If she dies or her wolves I am not responsible. That will be on your head. Is that clear?”_

_The other man nodded._

_The nights they had spent in each others tents. He knew he loved her, but whenever he asked her about where she had been, she said nothing but smiled, and kissed him, which had led to other things._

_Whenever news had come from the North, her eyes would look up, to his own, searching for answers but not daring to ask._

_He had heard her when she was in the Godswoods once near the trident. Praying to her old gods. Praying for them to keep Jon safe. They had barely marched up to kings landing she should have been praying for their victory. Praying for him. But she had not. When he had questioned her about it she told him he should not have been spying on her and that he was being stupid. He had more than enough men around him that would gladly die for him, but Jon had none. He should have suspected then. That was the very first argument they had._

_Defeating the Lannisters had not been easy but they had won, even Danaerys had joined in with their fight, although there was a condition involved. She explained she had not wanted the throne, but had learnt of her nephew in the North. That he should be rightful king but wishes not too. That she no longer wanted to rule and meant no harm to him or his men, that she would leave him to rule if he legitimised Jon Snow, as Targaryean! Gendry should have said no, but he knew he did not stand a chance against her and her dragons, not to mention the unsullied and a few imps! She was the one who carried with her a circus._

_The realm had bled enough. He will not let the poor people suffer and be ravaged by yet another war. He had thought at the time he had gotten off easily._

_Arya and Danearys got along well, many nights she would stay up with her, and he never thought much of it. Until Arya had told him they had been speaking about Jon. He had gotten angry at her but never showed it._

_Sansa was no threat either from the Vale, once she knew that Arya and Gendry were together. She happily resided back in the North as Queen, so long as Arya was happy to marry Gendry, and bring both their families together, like it had meant to be._

_News from the wall had come to Kings Landing from time to time, and Gendry would watch Arya give any hint of emotion towards the mention of Jon Snow, but her face never betrayed her. No matter whether the news was good or bad, she kept her face still. For a time news had stopped coming in all at once, and that for him had been bliss, and Arya concentrated on them. But even this had not lasted._

Gendry silently made his way to the tower of the hand. He knew what he had to do. He knew Arya well enough to know that she was not one to give up that easily. He knocked twice and waited for his uncles voice to shout to come in. He entered immediately.


	4. Chapter 4

 

**Stannis Baratheon**

Stannis Baratheon glanced up at his nephew from his papers squinting his eyes, then continued to read through the papers. He was in no mood to listen to the mess his incompetent nephew had gotten himself into.

Without waiting for any acknowledgement Gendry sat down and waited. It was a game they played. Like cat and mouse.

“I presume you have sorted matters out with the Stark girl?” he asked not looking from his papers. Gendry looked at his uncle; it would not bode well if his uncle did not take his side on this matter so he answered carefully.

“Of course I have, otherwise I would not be sitting here right now” his own voice not giving the game away. Stannis looked at him silently. Then reaching down he opened a draw. From the draw he pulled out rolled of long paper. He then got up and walked to his big table and unrolled the parchment. Gendry got up and stood next to his uncle.

“Do you know what this is?” Stannis Baratheon asked not looking at his nephew.

“It is a map, a very big map. So?” Gendry said already bored.

“It is a map of the north”, Gendry still not impressed watched his uncle pull out another map. This one he recognised. Stannis stared at his nephew for a while. When no answer came he simply said “and this nephew?”

“It is a map of Westeros bar the North. So? Are you giving me a history lesson, because I really do not think now is the time”, he said almost moving away.

“Oh dear nephew, there are a few lessons I would like to give you, but today it is not history”, Stannis said with equal boredom. His nephew was completely stupid. However at this last statement his nephew glared at him. Yes when he looked at him like that there was much of Robert in him.

“Can you not see the sheer size difference of the two? How much bigger the North is?” he asked.

“So what uncle? If you are trying to make a point then I suggest you do it, because there are things I need to discuss with you urgently”, he said now in a tone of a king addressing his servants.

“Fine. I will tell you. There are currently five hundred thousand wildings residing in the North. Many of which are fit to fight. Let’s say four hundred thousand of those. Now the queen of the North she has her own banner men, a few houses here and there which have pledged their allegiances to her. Now let us say each of this houses have a good five hundred men. Fighting men each.....”

“Uncle” came Gendry **s** ’ voice.

 “Let me finish. Now yes, also the queen of the North has in her pocket the Vale and the surrounding armies of that region. Now we come to the good part. What do you think the outcome would be if you went to kill the bastard in the North?” he looked at his nephew waiting for an answer.

“The queen of the North has pledged her allegiance to me, I am to marry her sister Arya she will not go against me for Jon Snow, a man who is not even her blood” he laughed.

“No you are right she won’t, perhaps not for Jon Snow but for Arya Stark her true blood and her only sister. I do not think she would hesitate dear nephew”, this time Stannis regarded his nephew. Waiting for the penny to drop.

“They will not know it was me. I have hired someone”, Gendry sat back down looking bored with the conversation.

“ Hmmm, maybe they would not have known had you not left your bloody papers in Arya’s room last night, when you went to fuck her” he said a bit louder.

“Careful uncle. Do not forget that I am your king also. Besides I am not that stupid to leave the actual papers laying around where she can find them, this was a mere test to see where her loyalties lie, and clearly they are not with me. A mistake she will pay for the rest of her miserable life, being married to me. And miserable I shall make it” he said.

Stannis studied his nephew more carefully now. Who was this man that stood before him? He had changed so much. He was no longer the green boy who he chanced upon at the trident. The person who stood before him hungered power. And not just the Iron Throne it would seem.

“Oh I have not forgotten one bit. That I assure you, but I am simply giving you council dear nephew. You go for Jon Snow and you will have the whole of the North marching up your ass, not to mention, those bloody dragons, that you let free” he said. He could feel his own anger rising. His nephew really was a complete idiot!

“It will not come to that. The North will side with me. They will have no other alternative”, he said smirking.

“And why not? Please do share” Stannis said squinting his eyes and looking at his nephew now.

“I intend on bringing the marriage forward. To this weekend”, he said smiling.

Stannis looked at him in disbelief. Could his nephew really be this naive?

“You really think she will not know why you are doing this? She will not see through this great façade of yours?”

“No matter I have already sent wedding invitations out her sister is already on her way, not to mention the rest of her family, and ours too”, he said now looking at his nails.

“Well well well, you have thought of everything have u not? I am impressed. Clearly you do not need my council. So I wonder why you have come here?” for once he was the one who needed to be careful. This was a man who it seemed would do anything for power. Even sacrifice his beloved Arya Stark.

“I merely came to let you know of my plans. Before you heard from anyone else. Oh and please make sure Shireen wears something that hides that ghastly side of her face” he said smirking. He knew this would anger his uncle.

Stannis Baratheon stood there silent as he watched his nephew turn to leave the room.

“One man!” He called out making Gendry turn to him and look confused. “It took just one man, to unite four hundred thousand wildings and bring them back to the wall. It took just one man to defeat the Others, and send them back in to the darkness. It took one man to save us all from that very same darkness, and you are going to kill him. Kill the bastard in the North, who saved us all? Have you forgotten?” he says this time looking squarely at his nephew.

“Unfortunately no, I have not. And as hard as I try it seems people do not forget either. It’s becoming rather annoying, and I am getting fed up of it. He is no more a hero then I am. After all I saved this kingdom from the Lannisters, Tyrells, Martells, and even the bloody Targaryeans and their dragons; yet people seem to forget that”, he says.

“Oh no one has forgotten, but you are no hero, nephew. You did what you had to do with my army, or have you forgotten that?” he asks. Trying to keep his own tone in check now.

“ _Your_ army, _my_ army what difference does it make when we are all blood anyway uncle?” he says. Stannis noticed how he said the word ‘uncle’ as if it was a bitter taste in his mouth.

“Did you ever love her?                Arya Stark. Or was it always the power you hungered for?” he asked now.

“Once, but things changed. I got fed up of playing second fiddle to Jon Snow. A man who was miles and miles away yet he lingers in Aryas’ thoughts and heart. I am done. Done with it all. How long I have suffered being cast in his shadow. A shadow that will soon be eradicated I might say” he says beaming at his uncle.

“Although I would love to sit here and chat to you about our family history, I have matters to attend too. Oh and in case you are not aware Arya Stark is now on lock down officially. She will not leave without a guard present, and she stays within these walls of the kingdom for now and till death do us part”, he says as he turns to walk out the door. Turning back round to face his uncle he says “oh and in case you are wondering about those wolves? Do not worry I have already sent men out to hunt and kill them all. I need new wolf skins, it is beginning to get rather chilly” and walks out.

Stannis stands there for a moment or two, relaying the whole conversation in his head. How much his nephew had changed? There was a time where he thought of the little people. Where he had seeked justice, and truth, not to mention his own council. Nothing like Robert. But this man that had left him now was not his nephew. He had become a stranger.

As cocky as his nephew seemed he knew that the North would not forgive this treachery. Jon Snow was their problem not Gendry’s . To interfere will challenge the queen of the North’s own rights. His nephew clearly was that stupid to think that this would end well. He will single handedly plunge the whole realm into another war. A war that no one might survive; for winter was still upon them. And with winter came the long darkness, and death.

He sat back at his chair glaring at the fires that were roaring form the fire place. He asked himself only one question.

_Who was the real monster?_


	5. Chapter 5

 

**The ex hand of the King**

He sat at the table, and watched as the maid lay his breakfast, then left. He had not slept very well last night, thanks to the pieces of parchment that he kept receiving. As much as he liked that people had not forgotten him, he wished at times they would just leave him well alone. _Especially now._

His eyes scoured the table at the feasts of cheeses and bread, and fruit that lay before him. The food was bountiful yet his appetite of late was not. He could not shake the niggling feeling that something terrible was about to happen. _The realm was to quite._

He broke his fast slowly as he picked up the first parchment that had been dated almost a week passed. He looked at it over and over again. It had been received late all intentionally of course. He was well aware that his presence was not the most pleasant or welcomed by the people of Kings Landing. But he enjoyed ruffling feathers, so payed no heed to the talk, or the whispers.

It was a wedding invitation. _A fancy one at that_.  He opened it carefully and read it slowly.

“Gendry of the house Baratheon, First of his Name , King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm cordially invites you and your family to the wedding of:

                                                **_King Gendry weds Arya Stark of House Stark_**

All the rest was just blah blah blah to him. _King of the seven kingdoms_. _Ha!_ He could do his job with his eyes closed, and his hand tied behind his back. He was no king. He had not led any troops into battle, or commanded armies.  Yes he was Roberts true blood, but even he had no real claim to the throne. Not as close as that boy in the north had, still has. What a fool to throw it all away.

He had watched Gendry since the day  the sack of Kings Landing had come about and his uncle had been mortally wounded. Gendry wasted no time in claiming the Iron Throne for himself, as he sat upon on the Throne like he was made for it. Though at the time he himself had no ill feelings towards the lad, there was still something there. Something that he could not shake the feeling off.

He saw the glint that shone in his eyes only for a brief second, the hunger in them was there. A boy who had nothing now had the whole of Westeros at his command. Too much power was a dangerous thing. He had learnt that by watching his own father. 

Danaerys should never have given him the throne. He had warned her. Told her it was a mistake. Gave her his council though she chose to pay no heed to his words.  A mistake she may one day have to pay dear for.

His own eyes looked at the name of the girl Gendry was to marry. _Arya Stark._

The girl had been presumed dead. No one had seen or heard of her since her fathers capture. Until of course he himself met her at the trident with Dany. When gendry and stannis introduced her to Danaerys, he could not belive his eyes. he made the mistake of going up to her then with a knife in his hand. Big mistake.  Her direworlf almost took his hand off.  He would have been no more had Danaerys not saved him and spoken  for him. still the girl was right to suspect him. he would have done the same. After what his family had did to hers.

He stayed close to her, watching her and found her amazing. She did nothvae the beauty that you could see straight away, the kind that stared at you benlantly like her sisters, but a more subtle beauty.

Her beauty was in her eyes, they way the seemed to spark at the mention of a certain lord commander he noticed and not at the kings her soon to be bethrothed. The way her smile had the ability to stop someone speaking in mid-speech.

The way she held her bravos sword. Even the way she fought was like watching a dancer, all graceful and elegant. But there was a fierceness to her she was thin and elegant like her sword – one which she called needle – but it was an illusion like her blade; she was sharp, and she also watched. Studied. Just as her wolf seemed harmless, both were too wild and unpredictable.

He knew just by studying her briefly that she was dangerous. That Arya Stark wherever she had been carried the reminisce of death with her.

He would never have thought that she was one to settle for a married life. He had thought her too wild to settle down. When she fought she seemed like someone to enjoy it, and not one to give it up so easily. It seemed strange. Yet stranger things had happened. He had bore witness to a few.

He threw the parchment onto the table and picked the next one up. Again this had also been personally addressed by the king. He read this and almost choked on his bread. Had the king totally lost his mind? After everything the realm had been through, he was really going to risk plunging the realm into another war. They had barely survived the last one, winter was still upon them, and the people of the realm have hardly had time to recover. War was inevitable if he went through with this though.

 Jon Snow had saved them all. This nonsense, this poor excuse that the king was giving that Jon was some kind of monster, was pathetic. If anyone asked him, though he knew none would, there was more to this.  No way would the king be foolish enough to act alone in this. The risk was far too great. Not unless he had some real back up. But whom?

He had met Jon again at the wall. They had fought side by side to defeat the Others’ along with Danaerys. Jon had changed but the wall had that effect on people, it was foolish of them to believe that it would not change a man, and Jon on his part was only a boy when he had joined. Jon was no monster then, but seeing him again he had changed. It was as if seeing a _Ghost_ standin front of him. He had grown, hard _yet strong,_ his face more solemn though. He had the look of the Starks, but there was something else. There was a sadness in his eyes and something else? He could not place it himself, not at first. But once he saw him fight then he realised what it was that shined in Jons’ eyes.  It was anger! Yes there was defiantly anger there. A rage that could not be soothed burned in him; that was clear to see now. He had also grown paler, as his eyes no longer grey were dark and black. The sword he yielded was on fire yet it was unlike any fire that he had seen before. This fire burned black. Just as his armour was made of black.

 He found it odd that Jon was not with his dire wolf. The last he had seen of them they were inseparable for most of the time. But now he was nowhere to be seen. He was curious to find where Ghost had gone. Had he perished some time before? When he had asked Jon about this, it was the red priestess who had answered. Muttering something about _only life could pay with life_. He knew what she had meant but his own eyes searched Jons, silently praying that it was not true. For Jon’s sake. Yet looking back now; _stranger things have happened, he thought to himself._

His thoughts went back to the letter in his hand. _So the king was making plans to deal with the bastard in the north?_

 This was certainly not meant to have found its way to him so then who could have sent it him. He could not keep a thing like this quiet from Danaerys, and when she finds out then oh hells. All will turn to ash. So he sat there and pondered for a moment. He sat drumming his fingers on the table and thought.

It must have been someone from within Kings Landing. Someone close to Gendry. For he would not trust anyone with this but whom. He had a few friends in Kings Landing but none that would be made privy to such delicate information as this.

The date and timing on the letter for when the assassination was to happen, co- in sided nicely with the wedding date. In fact it had been timed perfectly. Jon was not to die until after the marriage, but more importantly as it stated in the letter after the bedding, which boringly had been timed. Poor Arya Stark he thought to himself. _Gendry timing it!_ But she will not know. She would be fucking a man whilst her brother - no her cousin; he corrected himself - was being killed.

Of course! The whole of the north will be in Kings Landing, none shall see this coming. A cunning move by the King, yet still a risky one. Especially if timing was off.

 The next parchment took him totally by surprise. This one unfortunately had reached the correct recipient. He got out of his chair and walked to the bay window that over looked the sea. Well, well, well, it appears that the king had not thought of everything.

He mulled over the last parchment. He had so wanted a quiet life. He had, had too many adventures to last him several lifetimes, yet he could not ignore this last letter. A simple request that may claim his life.... he owed her though. She had saved him, grudgingly, he noticed but none the less she had saved him. His life was indebted to her; just as his life was indebted to Jon too. And what his families motto? Ah yes he smirked-someone really ought to change that motto, he was finding it hard to keep up-as his brothers’ voice sang in his ears:

**_“A Lannister always pays his debts............”_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry if a few of you may find this a short chapter. but it had to be.... again sorry for the delay. i realy have no more on this work so may b awhile.....but hope u still enjoy :)


	6. Chapter 6

**Nymeria**

The kill was fresh, the blood still warm as she buried her muzzle deep into the carcass of the animal. He had been big, and had put up a good fight but was still no match for her or her pack. She tore at the intestines dragging them out with her teeth, and throwing them on floor. They flopped down on the earth in one big heap of mess. But she continued to tear through the carcass, until she got to the good meat. She would have her fill then her pack too could feast.

 She tore at the sinews of meat and ate greedily. Her muzzle buried deep within the carcass. Her ears twitched at the sudden shift of wind. It carried some other smell with it. This was the smell of men. They were far but would not be for long. Taking her fill she lapped up fresh blood then picking her head up she growled to her pack to feast as her muzzle dripped with blood.

The night air was chilled as she stalked away from her pack and hung back by the trees with faces carved into them. She lay close to the roots of the trees and laid her head to the ground. At times she could hear her brothers singing to skies that she half remembered. Other times she howled and listened for her brother’s voices to call out to her. She had lost two already. Both savagely killed by the hands of men. For nights she would listen out to the winds carrying the spirits of her lost pack away to the great skies above, until one day where she could no longer feel the presence of the two gone.

Although she had a new pack of her own now, she missed her old pack. They had all been so young when they had parted their separate ways. She missed them. Her real brothers and sister. Even the white one. _She missed him the most._ Although she did not quite know why. But her human counterpart missed the human of the white wolf. She had not heard from the white one for a while now. Some days she could sense him, but most days she just remembered soft flakes of snow falling. White fur gulfed in hers, red eyes watching her. He was bigger than the rest of them, and she could not help but wonder how he was fairing.

She had not felt her human for a while, and wondered how she was also fairing. She was used to being away from her for so long, but this felt strange somehow. She could feel her human worry, worry about the human who was as silent as the white one.

The breeze whistled around her and the leaves of the tree rustled. She looked up and cocked her head to one side and listened. She could hear the other grey one calling to her. The brother who carried the scent of summer in his long thick grey fur. But there was another sound too. She listened as her ear twitched. Instinctively she sniffed the air.

She could smell the carcass of the dead animal, but there was also other smells. Smells of her pack, the trees, and the smell of the earth. Yet there was a salty smell that clung to the breeze. This was the smell of men.  It filled her nostrils and she hated the smell. It was disgusting! Men who had been tracking her and her pack for a while. She gave a low guttural sound and sensed the pack stop and look to the clearing where she was. Her golden eyes pierced the distance. Shadows moved. Shadows of men.

Sniffing again she knew these were the same men that had been tracking her for some days now, but now they were to close and she could sense their intention. She sits up and listens more intently keeping her eyes on the shadows that moved not that far away from her now. Her pack had also stopped eating and were waiting; waiting for her to command them.

Without having to make any sound she leaped forward and plunged into the thick trees, heading for the direction of the men. Her pack followed as she weaved in and out of the trees, sending her pack in every direction.

She came across one man, and ran him down to the ground with such force that when he hit the trees he knew he was dead. Carrying on full speed she could see one man to her left and another to her right but she continued on ahead. She heard their screams as some of her pack descended on the men. Another man in front waved his great big sword and screamed charging at her. She ran past him dragged her nails to the ground, making her stop and turn back charging towards him her teeth bared. She saw him swing the great sword as she leaped above him to one side, ripping his arm clean off from his shoulders. She tossed it to the ground and went back to the man taking his neck in her jaws and snapping it.

 All around her she could hear the screams of men and it filled her ears like the sound of rustling winds. She continued her attack, as another man came charging from behind her, only this time he was greeted by two of her cousins. They took the man down after another one of her cousins joined in. His limbs scattered around the ground. She heard one of her packs howl and knew they had been hurt. Running to where the sound was she saw a great big man hacking the wolf to pieces, whilst he laughed. Her cousin was still alive.

This angered her. She felt the rage take over her, felt every moment of her loss coursing through her veins. She howled and the man stopped and looked up; blood of her cousin dripped around his face. He smiled and she bared her teeth, raising one arm he brought his mighty axe down chopping her cousin in two. There, in that instant she remembered her sister, the one they called lady. In that instant she remembered her brother the one they had named grey wind. In that instance she remembered the north her home. She ran to the man as he ran towards her swinging his axe, this time she leaped and took his arm off the limb. And threw it back towards him. He screamed but she was not done. As he did his best to stand she charged at him knocking him to the ground. She saw her pack surround her. She could feel their anger rising in her. She walked over to the man who was still screaming and shouting at her. She took his leg and ripped it clean off his joint. Sending his body convulsing like a red rag doll. Blood scattered her face and the trees and the ground but she did not care.

She looked at the Weirwood tree as she walked towards the man again. She puts one paw on the man to still him. He was still alive. _Good_ she thought.

She took his other arm and ripped it off his shoulder. The blood seeped into the ground like a raging river. Like the river she pulled her girl’s mother from. Then she pulled his other leg off all the while watching his eyes fill with terror. Then she put her face right near the man’s and opened her jaws. Taking the man’s head she started closing her mouth slowly. Then when she felt her teeth sink in to the man’s face and skull she gave her head one clean jerk and tore his head clean from his neck.

Shaking it in her mouth she tossed it out, and watched it roll to the Weirwood tree. The forest around her was silent.

She howled and then turned to look at the Weirwood tree. The rest of her pack began howling behind her. But there was only one voice she could hear being carried by the white winds.........

**_“The North Remembers..................”_ **


	7. Chapter 7

 

**Azor Ahai**

**_“The north remembers........”_ **

The prince awoke from his slumber as the violence from his dream released its icy grip. The strange yet familiar ghost of a voice still resonated in his ears like drums being banged over and over again. Only ever saying one thing _.... **“The north remembers. The north remembers. The north remembers”.**_

 He was well aware and had firsthand experience at the sheer force and power of a dire wolf. His own from another life, had not been a stranger to killing man, but this had been different. He could still _feel_ his blood raging in his veins like overflowing pools of lava, bubbling at the surface, threatening of the carnage it was about to release..... _The same as the dire wolf from his dream had felt._

Running his own hands over his face, he shook his head trying to erase the memory of the massacre, but to no avail. His memory was still as vivid as it had been when he lay asleep. Wolves and men alike had been massacred. The place where the trees with many faces stood and watched men now bore witness to the fury of the wolves ** _. The old woods had been desecrated with blood._**

He had seen wolves tear at one man as if he had been nothing more than a chew toy; one tugging from the other. Blood sprayed the earth and the wolves, as they tugged at his limbs. The sound the tear had made at the seams of the shoulder as the arm was being ripped away from the body, was bone chilling. The growling of the wolves; they were relentless. But that was not what had chilled him the most. It was the dire wolf itself that gripped him. She was not afraid of men or wolves. Her eyes had shone like two golden coins in the moonlight, but her rage!? It was her rage that had him chilled. He had never witnessed another being feel this way. She had enjoyed killing the last man, he knew. He could feel it. She relished in his death and made it slow on purpose. The screams he had heard made the hair on his arms stand. He felt another chill, only this time it trickled down his spine.   _It had been all too real as if he had actually been there, but that was impossible. He had not warged another since....since.........._

“Another nightmare?” asked a woman’s voice from across the room. Her voice was cold and indifferent to him. He did not need to look at her whilst he dressed. Nor did he wish to speak with her.

“I asked if you had another nightmare my Azor Ahai?” she said this time her voice oozed a bitter sweetness.

“No” the Azor replied gruffly “and I am not your Azor Ahai” he said turning towards her.

“Oh? Then what would you have me call you? Would you prefer me to call you the monster of the north? The un-dead? The bastard?” she says and he could hear her distaste for all of those. She sighed then, and began moving towards him. He watched her walk effortlessly until she stood in front of him and stared into his eyes.  Then she reached her hand out to touch his face but he stopped her. “Or would you prefer me to call you Jon Snow”, as he shoves her hand away.

“I do not want you to call me anything, I want you to go. Go from here. The others have been defeated and have gone from here, so why is it that you still linger? What holds you to this place?” he asks narrowing his own eyes.

“You still do not trust me. Yet I am the only one who stands by you”, she says staring at him. She was daring him to deny this truth. But he would not give her the satisfaction of that. He continued to dress.

Melisandre sighed heavily then turned back to her flames that were beginning to rise. “Come and look in here and tell me what it is you see if you do not wish to speak of your dream” Melisandre says.

He walks over to the fires and stares into them long and hard. The flames danced and whirled around in the pit. Reaching upwards higher and higher, like hands wanting something to hold. Only he knew what they wanted to hold. They wanted him.

“Well?” she asks after a few minutes pass. He thinks about giving her the same answer as he always did; that he saw nothing. But the dream had left him perplexed, and what he saw in the fire was different to what he normally saw. He needed answers.

He takes a deep breath still watching the flames dance with one another, one trying with the other to reach to him first.  Orange, yellow and red they burned, whirling and twisting around and around, until they have amalgamated into one. Showing him things; things that left him even more confused.

“Something holds your stare Azor. Will you not share it with me?” she asks. He closes his eyes, inhaling the fiery embers.

 Opening his eyes he turns to her and says finally, “I see death”. Watching any flicker of acknowledgment from her that she sees it too. But none came.

“Go on. There is more that you see, is there not?” She asks.

 He sighs. “You are not disturbed by this?” he asks.

“No. I too have seen this. It has been the same for a while. People dying everywhere. But that is all I see. No more is being shown to me which is strange”, she says as if almost afraid of the meaning of this. Her not being shown more then what he had seen was unusual. It was a first. Yet he knew she spoke the truth.

He looks again at the fires, and again the flames flickered and rose trying to lick his face, but the black fire in him was much too strong and far more destructive; the closer they got to him the quicker they withered away back down. “I saw a face, then another then another, each one was different from the last, and they were worn like a mask” he looks at her as she gasps, and puts her hand to her mouth. For once he could see her icy facade melt. He saw fear and confusion mixed in her eyes, as with something else? Concern? For him? No perhaps for herself. “You know of what I speak of?” he asks narrowing his eyes _. What was it that she was not telling him?_

“Yes. Yes I do. It is the faceless men. They are a guild of assassins, trained by the very best, to kill those who have been marked by the many faced god” she says, her voice almost a whisper.

“The faceless men?” he asks her. He watches as she turns to look at him once more. He could smell the fear in her.

“They are an ancient organisation, which have survived for centuries. They are the best at what they do my prince. They have the ability to change their face into whomever, thus allowing them to get close to the person who has been marked. They kill the person making it look like an accident, and change their face again, so no one can suspect it was foul play. They are highly trained and very clever, and never miss a target”, she says her voice wavering slightly.

“How are they able to change their face? An illusion?” he asks, and she shakes her head, turning away from him. He moves towards her then. Staring at her.

“Not an illusion my prince, it is magic”, she says. He scoffs at her.

“Magic and illusions. Are they not the same thing?” he asks shaking his head.

“No they are not.” She says more firmly. Gripping his arm as tight as she could. “You can use one to trick the other, but magic, real magic when used in its raw essence that is real. Dark magic, blood magic that is real. What they do is real. It is no illusion.” She says.

“So? What could this mean? And why am I able to see this and not you? And who would send them anyway?” he asks.

“I do not know why you have seen this and not me.  As for who has sent them, I have seen for a many weeks now the new king of Westeros, means you ill my Azor. He is searching for a way to get rid of you. You being here, is a constant reminder to him that if you are to challenge him for the throne you have more right to it then he has.  But he is foolish and unwise. When you are Azor Ahai why would you seek a mere iron throne? You are the champion of the world. Your throne shall be forged with fire and blood....” she began her usual rant.

“Enough Melisandre, I care for none of it”, he says a little more loudly.

Melisandre stops and stares at him for a while then says “ very well Azor,  but tell me was there anything else you saw in the fires. Or perhaps your dream? You have not spoken of your dream yet?” she asks almost pleading.

A few minutes of silence passes between them, until she finally speaks again “very well keep the dream to yourself. But anything else you saw in the fires, you must tell me. I cannot help you if I cannot see who they are, but I am certain they have been sent by the king.” He shared no concern for the king, or thought of him as any threat. Personally he welcomed the challenge.

 “Something is heading to the north; something very big and very powerful. I do not know what, but whatever it is it is coming back with a vengeance. It remembers the north”, he says. He did not like the sound of it as he relayed it to her himself. But it was the truth. It was more than the dire wolf. Something else was happening.  He could not see it yet or make sense of it but he could feel it. Deep within his bones where the black fire burned the most.

“The others?” she asks looking at him. He saw the fear in her eyes and heard it in her voice. He chose to ignore it.

“No, this is different. Whatever it is, its business is with me” he says. And then looks at her again. “And only me” he did not need her help or her interfering.

She was about to speak but a huge black raven swooped in to the room. Flying over their heads low, until it perched itself on the chair. The black raven watched them both intently with his black beady eyes.

“The boy spies on you, through this” she says pointing at the bird. He shrugs his shoulders ready to leave. He did not want to hear it nor did he care whether the boy spied on him. He had no care for any of it. Let them all listen and whisper. Let the Baratheon king send whoever he wanted to kill him.

“You should let me kill it, feed it to the fires”, she says menacingly, and he turns around. Within a quick few steps he was right next to her, his hand on her neck tightening his grip. She gripped his arm at the wrist trying to pull him off but he held her firmly. The bird squawks and squawks yet he pays no heed to it.

“You touch one feather on that bird and I will burn you alive Melisandre. Nice and slow.  Leave the bird alone”, he shoves her back hard, and then walks out as the bird follows squawking repeatedly overhead.

He goes outside as quickly as he can as men and women ducked out of his way. He had no care for them what so ever. He went to where the horses where kept and found his black stallion waiting. He jumps up onto the back swiftly and together they ride out of castle black, almost running over a man on the way out.

Azor Ahai could still see the bird over head and knew where it was going.  They rode hard for a while until he reached a clearing in the woods. There in the centre stood a Weirwood tree; tall and proud. Its mighty long thick branches stretched out like arms ready to embrace the whole forest, and the sky above, if it could. Its red leaves were doused with fresh dew drops as they glistened in the morning light, making it seem as if each one were a flame ignited by the burning ball of fire in the sky. Though these were trees, he himself had never seen any like these before. Where the bark of normal trees was brown the Weirwood tree had bark as white as ivory, which twisted, and curled, and bent with deep smooth grooves embedded in them as if someone was wringing a wet towel. At the centre of the tree, a face had been carved. It was neither pleasing nor welcoming. Its mouth was wide open and the eyes itself seemed as if they had blood dripping down them, curtsey of the red sap from the leaves. As he stared upon the face a while longer a soft breeze tousled his hair.

 Azor climbed off the horse and made his way to his usual seat and sat down. He knew the trees were sacred in the north, and were even considered as old gods, since long before the arrival of the Andals, but for the life of him he could not recall how he knew this. A lot of the memory from his old life had almost completely faded, yet for some reason this bit of information remained. Perhaps that is why there was always a pull to this place. Something in him, fought to remember. Something of the north.

**_“The north remembers.....”_ **

A light gentle breeze rustles the leaves of the tree, and Azor stares back at the face of the tree. _Had it spoken to him?_  Azor waited but there was nothing accept for the squawking of the black raven that had now comfortably perched itself on one of the branches of the ancient tree. Both faces were staring at him now.

Taking out his sword he gently begins to clean it. He never quite understood why he did this, but somehow by doing this it calmed the fire in him. Almost soothing it, granting him a momentary peace; though that never lasted.

He does this for a while till the raven perched on the branch swoops down and stands in front of him. His beady eyes again watching intently at his every movement.

 “Snow, Snow Snow”, it repeated but he refused to give him acknowledgment. “Jon Snow, Jon Snow, Jon Snow” the raven squawked even louder yet he continued to clean his sword.

 “I should let her kill you. You know she enjoys burning living things alive”, he says not taking his eyes off the sword. The bird flapped his huge wings and squawked loudly at him. Then it flaps his huge wings again and flies above him circling his head. Until he stands right in front of him again. This time the bird says nothing.

 He smiles. “Good you understand then”, he says and was about to continue, when the bird squawked and repeated **_“the north remembers...”,_** and he stilled.

He watched the bird. This raven was no fool, and nor was it afraid. He looked at the face of the Weirwood tree, then back at the raven.

“You know of my dream?” he asks and the raven ducks his head quickly. “Then you also know of what I saw?” the bird just stares at him. “You wish to know of what I saw in the fires?” he asks, and this time the bird ducks his head once more.

 He takes a deep breath; the fire in him began to rise. He could feel the flames coming alive in him. He needed answers, and the red witch had none nor did he trust her, therefore he had not told her everything. But perhaps whatever it was that was coming to the north, only the north could understand.

“I saw what we all want for ourselves; a chance to be free. I saw freedom, and she was beautiful. Death made beautiful! Have you ever heard such a thing?” he looks right at the raven, yet the raven does nothing. “She was walking towards me; I could see the fall of soft gentle snow resting upon her head, making it seem as if she was wearing a crown made of frozen snowflakes. Her face kept changing every few steps, one after another until it came to one face. Her skin was as pale as winter snow, and her eyes were as hard as cold grey steel, yet she smiled at me; a smile which was warm, and honest.  She was not afraid of me.  She looked straight at me through the fires, and for a moment I thought I should know her. Then she began to disappear into the flames. Dark black flames wrapped themselves around her but she kept smiling at me, until I could only see her faintly. She whispered a name before she disappeared.   _Jon Snow_. Should I know this name? Should I know her?”  

He looked to where the bird should have stood but it had gone; in its place stood a dire wolf. The fur was as white as the snow that lay on the ground around them, and its eyes shone as red as blood rubies. Yet it stood silently watching him. _Red eyes never leaving his face._

_“I know you”,_ he whispers as he stands up, dropping his sword, but as soon he does the dire wolf disappears into thin air. It was an illusion. _How dare he?_

“You mock me?” he turns to the Weirwood tree. “You wish for me to be here but you play your games. You wish to know but you do not care?” he could feel his fury rising now. Hearing the laughter of another lifetime coming back to haunt him; the taunts, which rang louder and louder in his ears.  Flames began to rise until they shot out of the pores of his skin. Black flames licked the cold air. They grew higher and higher. Stretching his arms out; he lets out a mighty roar then directs the flames straight towards the Weirwood tree, sending big balls of black fire at the tree. The tree began to burn and crackle as the black fire engulfed it all at once.

_Azor Ahai picked his sword up, and walked towards his horse. Jumping on, he watches for a moment at the tree that he had not long sat under. It was now fully engulfed in flames, the black fire soaring higher and higher into the sky as if wanting to burn that too. Embers burning black and red flew out and littered the ground of white snow; like spatters of blood. He takes a deep breath as the crackling of burning wood echoes in the silent forest. He watches for a few more minutes then turns his horse around, and begins to head back to castle black............_


	8. Chapter 8

 

**Arya**

**_“The north remembers, the north remembers”_** Arya kept uttering in her sleep as if it were a mantra, as she tossed her head from side to side.  **_“The north remembers”_** she says one last time as her eyes open, and the light hit her face.

She looked around her room. It was empty _. Good_ she thought to herself.  Getting out of bed quickly she hurries towards the door and lays flat on her stomach. Peering through the gap between the door and the floor, she notes a pair of feet standing on the other side of the door. She smiled. Gendry was worried and he had a lot to be worried about. She quickly lifts out the bag from under her bed, and checks the contents inside it once more. _Everything was there that she needed._

Arya  then hides the bag once again under the bed and straightens herself up realising that maids would be coming in soon to help her get changed for her big day. She rolled her eyes.  He really was pulling out all the stops; if he married her he would have the strength of the North at his side, without question. Her sister would not dare kill her husband, they both knew that.

She heard the turn of the key in the door and saw maids come in smiling at her, completely oblivious to the farce that this marriage was. Yet it was the last person that came through the doors that caught her eyes. And made her smile.

“Sister, you have come at last. Gendry had moved the wedding forward and I had feared you may not have made it on time”, Arya said staring at her sisters features, looking for any sign that she knew what was happening behind the curtains.

“I too was afraid, but I am here now, Bran and Rickon send their regards”, Sansa said flashing a set of beautiful white teeth. Even next to her Arya was no beauty. It still made her wonder why Gendry had chosen her and not Sansa.

They hugged one another, quickly as the ladies drew Arya’s bath, “come sister let us break our fast together, we have much to talk about”, Arya says leading Sansa to the table. Arya watched Sansa sit down and then dismissed the ladies.

“But, ma’am your bath?” asked one of the maids.

“I can have a bath myself thank you, but I will call you if I need anything”, she said trying to usher the maids out. The maid, who asked the question, looked at Arya confused then at Sansa. Arya turned to her sister who nodded, and the maid curtseyed and went, closing the door behind her and locking them both in. If her sister had noticed she did not say ask anything of it.

Arya turns back and smiles at her sister, then sits next to her. Placing a few grapes on to her own plate Arya watches as Sansa casually places food on her own plate not once looking up at her sister.

“Tell me sister since when do the maids of Kings Landing do as you say when I am to be their queen?” she asks.

“Seen as I am the queen of the north and you darling sister have yet to be queen”, she says not looking at her sister.

“Hmm” Arya says, and smiles at her sister. It had been far too long since she had last seen or spoken to Sansa in person.

“Oh do try to sit at least like a lady Arya. You are to be queen in a few hours, and queens do no sit like that, only buffalos do”, she said. Arya noticed that her sister was more on edge than usual. Did she also suspect what was going on? What Gendry had planned for Jon? She needed to find out.

“Tell me sister how is the north fairing these days”, Arya asks, carefully taking another grape into her mouth.

“The north is cold, and harsh, men, women, and children are all dying. Winter it seems has no end. Though Bran keeps reassuring me it will soon come to pass, but it is all bleak” she says looking up at Arya. “ you are lucky you are here, Kings landing isn’t half as cold and bitter as it is back home”, she says taking a piece of bread into her mouth.

“Yes the place where they had trapped and killed our father. It is very warm and cosy. I am one lucky girl,” she says with a tone that seemed as if she was bored.

“You are the one who agreed to marry Gendry, do you not recall? _What did you think_? That he would leave kings landing, leave the throne, and take up residents in Winterfell, and call that home?” she scoffs and resides to eating her porridge.

“Winterfell”, Arya says and sighs heavily.

“No, that is not your home, this is your home now and you had better remember it” she says icily.

“You know don’t you. You are aware of what he is planning?” Arya asks looking at her sister. Daring her to deny it.

“Of course I know. Everyone knows, otherwise I would not be here. Although some notice could have been nice. Are you with child? Is that why he has brought this wedding forward?”Sansa asks her whilst her cool blue eyes pierced her grey ones accusingly. Daring her to deny the truth.

“Pregnant? What? Of course I am not pregnant. Why would you even think that? Forget all that, listen Jon -------“but Sansa cut her off putting her hand in front of her face.

“Do not start talking about Jon. I do not want to hear it. For goodness sake Arya you are about to be married, and on your married day you should not speak let alone think of another man other than your betrothed” she said.

“You are not listening, Jon is in trouble.  Gendry..............”  But Arya was cut off again.

“Arya I refuse to listen to this. Jon is a grown man and one who has more than once proved he can take care of himself. Now please if you have finished” she clapped her hands and the maids had appeared, from outside. _Damn it!_ Arya thought. They had been outside all along, probably heard everything that they had spoken about. She watched as the maids began clearing the table.

“You must make a start of getting dressed I shall leave you all to it and return once you are ready” and without Arya being able to say anything she walked out of the room. Arya heard a clink and knew the doors had been locked. _Damn it. She must tell her sister about Jon. Why was Sansa refusing to listen?_

The next few hours went by like a haze, the maids washed her, got her ready, and was just finishing doing her hair, when Sansa came back in the room.

“Oh Arya you look beautiful, mother would have been so proud”, she beamed hugging her sister. Then pushing a strand of hair away from her face. The maids had finished and left them both alone in the room. No clink.

“Thank you sister. I am glad you came to see me though. I want to speak to you about Jon.........”

“For goodness sake Arya why must you always bring him up?!” she asks. “I am warning you Arya, let him go, otherwise you shall never be happy in your marriage. The Jon you knew is no longer, Arya”, she says turning away from her.

Arya walks over to her and stands in front of her. “Gendry says you went to see him why?” she asks.

“Why? I wanted to see if he would come back home, to Winterfell. The nights watch is no place for him” she says a softness in her eyes. “But he refused Arya; he looked so pale and different. He was rude” she said not looking at her but at the window. Scrunching her face as if she had tasted something bitter. _There was something she was hiding; Arya could sense it._

“What is it? There is something you are not telling me?” she asks.

“He.... nothing Arya he has changed. The Jon snow you once knew no longer exists. He died a long time ago. What remains on the wall is dead”, she says more quietly. Arya clenched her fists together. He was not dead. He could not die.

“Why do you speak of him like that? Have you forgotten we once called him brother?” Arya looks at her square in the face.

“He tried to rape me Arya!” she shouts turning away from the window, her back still to her. Arya takes a step back. What? He would never. She can hear bells ringing outside but the ones that rang in her head hurt. It must be a lie. Surely he would never. She looks over at Sansa but she was still staring out of the window. She must look at her as she says it to know if she is speaking the truth. Quickly composing herself she then goes to her and forces Sansa to look at her. She needed to hear it again.

“What? No Jon would never...” she looks at her sister who now had fresh tears in her eyes.

“I am not going to stand in front of you, and keep repeating myself Arya. Nor do I want to relive those moments”, she says more firmly, and Arya can feel her head spinning. She could feel the walls coming in closer, as she felt the air lessen in the space she was occupying.

“Sansa, whatever happened between you and Jon, it must have been a misunderstanding. Jon would never...” but Arya could not even bring herself to say it.

Sansa looks up at her. “You still defend him? After what I have told you?” she asks and Arya sees the hurt in her sisters eyes.

“If he has tried to hurt you I promise you I will make him pay for it, but I must find the truth for myself. I must go to see him” she says more urgently.

“No. Absolutely not. I will not allow you anywhere near that monster. You will stay put. You are safe within these walls” she says. More frantically this time.

 “Gendry is planning to have Jon killed, I’m not sure when or how, but I do know he is planning it. I must save him, and learn the truth for myself. I must get out of here”, she says and Sansa yanks her arms away from her taking a step back.

“Arya, have you not listened to a word I have spoken? And how do you know of this?” she asks.

“I read the letter that Gendry had received from the nights watch, asking for him to be removed, and when I went to question him about it I could tell... something was already in motion”, Arya says quickly, but then seeing Sansa’s own look of horror she quickly adds “his intentions to do away with Jon are purely selfish. He knows that with Jon alive his own claim to the throne can be challenged at any time.” Arya says desperately hoping Sansa will side with her.

“Arya this is Gendry, and Jon denied the throne. Gendry would never hurt Jon; he knows how much you care about him. To hurt him would be to hurt you, and Gendry loves you”, she says reaching out for Arya. Arya whips her hands away.

“Gendry _does not_ love me, he loves power. He yearns for it. It is not me he wants, but the power of the north. I cannot and will not marry a man like that”, she says more angrily.

Sansa looks at her more intently now. “Have you completely lost your mind Arya? You will not marry him? How selfish can you be? If you do not marry him” she says taking a hold of Arya’s arm and squeezing it tight “you will plunge the whole of the north and west into a war that god only knows how long it will last. Is that what you want? Is it? For everyone to go to war because of some monster that stands at the wall?”

“Sansa......”

“What Arya? I am only speaking the truth. He is a monster, a mindless puppet for that red priestess. It is disgusting. The kindest thing to do is put him out of his misery. But no you would rather start a war; sacrifice countless lives for one life. _One life Arya_. He doesn’t even remember us”, she says now.

“Sansa I cannot.....”

“But you will. You made your choice just as Jon had. You chose to stay with Gendry, here at Kings landing. If you were not sure of your feelings for him, then, well you should have said, I could have done something, but now, now I cannot. My hands are tied. If I was to intervene in this wedding, cancel it even, it will not go down well for the North. And I am sorry but I have to think about everyone not just you and Jon” she says more bitterly.

“You do not have to do anything, just when you go to leave just leave the door open I shall do the rest”, she says. Arya knew she was clutching at straws but she needed to try. If her sister was on her side, then Gendry would back down. He would not test the power of the north, upon the whole of Westeros. The north was far too strong.

“Hahaha, have you listened to yourself? Leave the door open. I would be the first suspect. Grow up Arya, you decided to play the game of thrones now you must repay its consequences” she says and Arya is shocked. _Since when had her sister become so cold?_

Before she could say anything else, a knock came at the door; one of the kingsgaurds. “Queen Sansa, lady Arya, forgive the intrusion, but Queen Sansa I have come to take you to the sept, it is almost time”, he says and Arya watches her sister turn and smile nodding her head to the guard.

She hugs Arya and whispers “if not for the north then for mother and father please. Make them proud” and she leaves her. Arya watches her sister take the guards arm, and they walk out the room. The door closes and she hears a click. _Damn her!_

She walks to her window and watched as the crowds begin to gather at the gates. Shit this was really going to happen. The knots in her stomach began to twist and wriggle.

“Become as calm as water” came Syrio voice and she did just that. She needed to stay calm. Remember her training. She would need it. Not all hope was lost. There was still time.  She went over to her dresser, when she heard something moving. She looked at the wall nearest to the fireplace. The sound seemed to have been coming from within the wall. Getting up quietly she places her ear to the wall and listens. She heard the shuffle again. Was it rats? No it sounded a lot bigger then a rat. She placed her ear to the wall again, and the shuffling seemed to have stopped.

Taking a step back she looked at the wall. It began to move. _What the seven hells_ she thought as the wall began to move further and further into her chambers. She takes several steps back, until she sees someone step into her chambers. Arya blinked several times, pointing her finger to the wall then at the person who stood before her.

“How the seven hells did you....?” she begins to ask as the man gently pushes the wall back into place. Then he turns and grins at her.

“Surprise!” he says, and she rushes towards him and hugs him.

 “Well, erm Lady Stark?” he says as she pulls away standing up, and straightening her dress.

“You tell anyone I did that I will feed you to Nymeria limb by limb, whilst your are still alive, of course” she says looking at Tyrion Lannister square in the face.

“Of course, and my lips are sealed” he says holding both his hands up and smiling at her.

“Again... how....?” she asks eyeing him suspiciously.

He grins at her and says, “I am a man of many talents, and gods you are a rare diamond” he says taking her in. Then asks “why are you not ready?” looking at her up and down, his brows knitted together in confusion.

“What do you mean? I am ready, this is my wedding dress”, she says.

“I know that is your wedding dress, but I thought you wanted to escape, in the letter you wrote, you asked for my help, and I’m here, but you’re not even dressed” he says even more surprised. She stayed quiet a moment as he kept staring at her.

“Oh gods you have not changed your mind because I have just travelled in that flea infested passageway for nothing then”, he says and still she was silent.

Arya watches him look around, he was getting nervous. “Relax Tyrion I have not set you up, but the plan has changed slightly” Arya says, and if he was nervous before well he was even more nervous now.

“Take that into the sept with you, making sure you hide it behind the floors to which the high septum will be standing in front of” she says, throwing the bag over to him. He catches it flawlessly.

She watches him look at the bag then at her. “Why and how am I supposed to do that? The sept is already filling up; I cannot do that without everyone seeing what I am up to? And why are we even going to the sept, I came this bloody way to get you out without being seen”, he says incredulously.

She smiles at him and he tilts his head to one side and looks at her seriously. “Please do not tell me that you want me to kidnap you in front of everyone, because yes, they would all believe that wouldn’t they. Ohhh look it’s the Lannister imp, the monster has taken away with the bride”, he says rising his hands and eyes.

 “I will not do it, so quit staring at me”, he says. “And besides” he says turning to her again, “who in their right mind would believe it?” he asks.

She walks over to the table, and pours two glasses of wine, handing him one she smiles again and he says “I am not doing it Arya”, more sternly, and she was amused. _As if that would change her mind._

 “Relax you are not kidnapping me, but you are coming with me”, she says and he spits his wine out almost over her white dress.

“You what? That was not part of the plan, nor what was in the letter” he says looking at her.

“Your right it was not, but come on it would be fun I promise,” she says winking at him.

“Lady Arya, no it would not be. In case you had not noticed, I am hardly built as a killing machine, I will be no help to you if we are attacked, you and the wolf are better off without me”, he says taking another sip of his wine.

“Nymeria ... she has already left”, she said more quietly, and she watched Tyrion turn to her, and look confused.

“So you sent her away, send back for her. You Starks have the warging thing don’t you?” he asks. She could feel him studying her with his one blue eye and one green.

“I did not send her away she ....  She went by herself. Look I need you; I would not ask you unless I needed your help besides, I can and will keep you safe. If Gendry suspects you helped me then your head will be on one of these spikes outside the gates. We both know he has wanted an excuse for a while to detach your head from your shoulder. He is just waiting for an excuse” Arya said.

 She should never have asked him. She had not realised it until she said it out loud, that Gendry will find a way to blame Tyrion, and he will kill him. It was not an excuse but the truth. Even if he had not helped her he would still do it.  Arya running away would be all the excuse he needed. He’d plant evidence or do something. _What had she been thinking?_ She had many deaths on her hands but she would not have his. After all he came to get her out. He was the only one, who believed her about Jon. _He was the only one_ she thought to herself. A Lannister helping a Stark! She rolled her eyes and bit her lip.

 “This is foolish, he would not dare come after me. I do hold some power, you know”, he says taking another sip. She just stares at him. No one would stand by him. No one would dare speak against Gendry, she knew that. Any friends Tyrion thinks he has will mysteriously disappear. She was vaguely aware she was chewing on her bottom lip.

She looks at Tyrion and sees the realisation hitting his face. He had no power here. Danaerys was miles away and she held no favours to Tyrion. They fought side by side yes, but that was a while ago, and she would not come back to kings landing and risk being captured herself.

 “All the more reason we should go now” he insists but she shakes her head.

“It won’t be enough to convince Gendry to spare you. Believe me Tyrion. If I leave now, without you, he will kill you, and I.............” she what? Dare she admit to herself that she cared for a Lannister. She watched as Tyrion stared at her confused.

“Careful lady Arya, I may think you have gone soft on me”, he smiles a little. “Very well I shall go with you, but only because I need a one last adventure” he smiles; his eyes softening. She did not want to think it would be his last. _Or hers for that matter!_

“One more thing” she says choosing to ignore his remark. She makes her way towards her bed, and lifts the covers to reveal a small knife. She hands it to him and he stares at her oddly.

“I... I need you to go under my dress and place it carefully in my garter”, she says looking straight at him. The shock on his eyes wanted to make her burst into laughter but she dared not.

“I cannot lift the bloody dress up, and see what I am doing, so please”, she says.

“I am not some hand maid” he says incredulously, but then smiles “on the other hand I have always wondered what kind of shenanigans one could into whilst one was under there”,  he smirks mischievously, and she whacks him hard on the arm.

“Just do it before I stick you with it” as she holds her dress up he goes under and she can feel his misshaped hands fumbling with her thighs.

“Careful Lannister, I could still call Nymeria back” she says smiling, as she can feel him tugging at the garter then placing the small knife where she had said. He comes out with the biggest grin on his face.

She rolls her eyes, as the bells begin to toll, it was time. The guards would be knocking at her door at any given moment

“Pity just when things were beginning to get interested”, he says. She looks once more at Tyrion, who takes a big gulp of the red wine, and shoves the glass into the bag she had given. She smiles at him.

“In case they ask who else was here” he says, and winks at her. Tyrion opens the secret passageway again, and turns back for the bag. “Always had a hard time saying no to the pretty ladies”, and he walks out. She wanted to rush to him then to say thank you, but now was not the time. She watched him leave, and prayed he would be safe. He was her only chance at making out of this wedding alive.

There was a clink sound of a lock being unlocked and a guard steps in along with a few ladies. She takes a deep breath, and smiles nervously.  It was time for the show to start..........


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fore warning: so in this chapter there is a lot of porn, so read at your own discretion or waeva i dont know!but hope you enjoy the whole of the chapter!

 

 

**Gendry Baratheon**

Gendry stood in front of the mirror admiring himself; a big satisfied smile draped across his face. He had never been one to admire himself, to even think that he could one day be sitting the iron throne, armies at his command. Yet here he was. All clean and pristine and ready to be married to the she wolf of the north. He laughed quietly to himself.

‘The she wolf of the north’, that was the name given to her by the men in his uncles camp, before they took kings landing from the Lannisters. The men had joked with him telling her she was a true northerner, just like her aunt Lyanna – the woman who the seven kingdoms had bled for – she would never marry, especially a southerner. Yet here he was. He had tamed the she wolf, and bent her to his will. The months in which he had ached for her to call him hers, only to have her speak of another. Her beloved so called bastard brother Jon Snow. His distaste for him showed in the reflection in the mirror.

Gendry shook the thought of him out of his head. Today was his day. Today would be the start of something the whole of Westeros and beyond would remember and mark as the true day he began his rule, not only of the seven kingdoms but beyond.

A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts and he momentarily frowned.

“Come in” he said almost with boredom, though not looking away from himself in the mirror. A smile reached his face, as he saw the figure in the mirror. He turned his head, and in a quick few strikes he was kissing the figure fully on the lips, not letting her speak or catch her breath.

“My king” she spoke breathlessly, but he continued to kiss her lips, neck, her bosom that now heaved up and down due to the breathlessness she was feeling. He walked her backwards as he kept kissing her until she was pressed firmly against the post of his bed.

“Gendry, my king, we must….” Came her voice in rasps, as he squeezed both her breasts in his hands, making her gasp her arousal in his ear, thus fuelling him more to squeeze harder. She brought his head back to her and kissed him more ferociously, and he smiled, as she gently placed his bottom lip in between her teeth. Giving it a gentle tug. She was nothing like her little sister. She knew how to fuel a man’s passion, the way he liked it. He pulled at her braid, and undid her hair. Letting her long fiery auburn hair cascade over her shoulders and down to her waist.

He pulled away from her, though his eyes scanned over her body, as both her hands gripped the post at the back of her.

“Is something wrong my king?” Sansa asked so sweetly and innocently. Her blue eyes brighter than his own encased with so much desire; a desire for him. He could feel his cock hardening just by the way she was looking at him. There was a profound innocence to her face that he could never quite fathom. Yet they had fucked each other enough times to know that she was no virgin, nor the image of innocence that she tried to portray for others.

“No” he answered still looking at her. She was staring back at him, her lips slightly swollen, and her breasts still heaving up and down in her dress; her breath coming out short and sharp.

“What does my king wish to speak to me about” she asked in barely a whisper; her eyes heavy with lust. He wondered if her cunt was as wet and ready for him as his cock was for her. Another smile crossing upon his face.

“Take off your clothes my lady”, he said quietly, and he saw the gleam in her eyes. Those sparks reappear. She silently did what he asked her to. Sansa was always good like that. Always ready to please. _Even if it meant pleasing her sisters soon to be husband_ he thought. She understood her duties. He watched as Sansa quickly stepped out of her dress, her eyes never leaving his.

When she was only down to her shift she asked “would my king like me to assist him out of his own clothes?”

There it was again. The desire evident in her voice to please him. The respect she gave him. It was incomparable to anything he had ever bore witness to. He could not believe how different two sisters could be.

“Yes”, was all he needed to say, as she walked slowly to him; no longer a shy maiden but as a strong confident young lady. She kept her eyes on him the whole time she undressed him. brushing her hand against his cock that was tucked in his under garments.

When she had reached to his under garments, she trailed her hand softly up and down his thigh. “Would my king like me to take care of this too?” she asked.

“He would” he replied, and he watched Sansa tug gently at his underpants and pull them all the way down her eyes still not leaving his face. His cock was fully hard now, though she pretended for it to go unnoticed. Stepping back she looked at him once more, and he brought his finger to his bottom lip, slowly rubbing it.

“Take the rest of your shift off my lady and lean over to the bed” he commanded. Gendry loved how she just complied. Within seconds she was naked and leaning over the edge of bed, her legs apart, ready for his insertion. He bit his lower lip, and made his way behind her rubbing his cock up and down the crack of her arse. She liked it he knew.

“Do you like that Queen Sansa?” Gendry asked, knowing the answer yet still enjoying listening to the answer and sounds she made.

“Yes my king”, she spoke. He tucked one hand under the flat of her belly and trailed his hand up and down her, while his cock resting against her arse. Leaning over more he kissed the back of her neck, whilst his other hand rubbed her back sensuously, trailing kisses down her spine and all over her back. He knew exactly where her weaknesses were. His other hand made it down to her sex, as his fingers pulled the tight lips of her cunt apart. He slid his finger up and down her wet cunt, before he slipped a finger in, making her sigh deeply. In and out he thrusted, the wetness becoming more and more until he slid another finger in. She automatically put her leg up on the bed resting her knee there as he slid a third. Gods he loved how she was so willing to accommodate him. Nothing was too much for her. He bit her in one specific spot just above her shoulder blade and she moaned making her lunge forward onto the bed more.

“My king….” She whispered. But all Gendry said in return was “ turn over” and she complied.

Now she was lying on the bed her elbows propped. She was looking up at him and him down at her. He was gently stroking his cock up and down, and watched as her eyes darted to his cock then back at him.

“Spread your legs”, and she smiles and does what he asks. Gendry leans down sliding his hands behind her hips, and then shifts her to the end of his bed. Crouching down, he pulls his face close to her cunt. The sweet smell of arousal seeped into his nostrils as he gave her cunt a quick flick of his tongue. That one motion had her moaning. Wrapping his arms around both her thighs he plunged his tongue deep into her cunt. Sansa moaned a bit more, thus making him lick her cunt from the bottom to the top. Just where that tiny little nub was.

He licked at her cunt like a dog would to a bone, and he knew she loved it. He finally rested his tongue on her nub and began circling his tongue, while he let go of her thigh and shoved two fingers up her cunt, twisting them as they went in. she moaned harder and he knew she was about to come, but he was not finished with her yet. He pulls away slightly, and kisses her thigh, then bites it, leaving a mark. Something she could look at and smile at. Taking his fingers out he looks at her and there is frown that’s marred her beautiful face.

“Gendry?” she asks, almost pleadingly. Without answering her he shoves one of the wet fingers up her cunt and the other up her arse as she moans loudly this time at the intrusion made in her ass. He lowers his head and begins to flick her nub gently at first then more harshly, until finally resuming the circular motions. A few more minutes and he felt her body convulse in spasms; as he hungrily carried on. Until she was holding his head, and whispering “stop, stop”, he smirks, and gets up crawling over her body, until he is towering over her.

She leans her head forward and grabs the back of his head and pulls him towards her own mouth, kissing him greedily, as if wanting to savour the taste of her own cunt. Together they both break for air as she opens her legs more, a smile creeping upon her face. The twinkle in her eyes shining brighter. Gendry presses the top of his cock in between her slit to where her nub was. Her reaction mixed with pain and pleasure only fuelled his own desire to continue opening rubbing his cock up and down her slit. Then leaning gently towards the opening of her cunt. She bit her lower lip, and looked at him shyly.

“Please Gendry I need you. Please fuck…..” he did not allow her to finish the sentence as he plunged himself in her. There was no gentleness in it, as his own thrust became harder and harder. He could see her gripping the sheets of his bed, as he continued to pummel his cock hard into her wet pussy, so much so that it had started to make squelching noises. He did not care as she moaned. She placed one leg over his shoulder which allowed his whole cock in further as she groaned more, grabbing a nearby pillow to quieten her moans of pleasure. A few more thrusts, and he pulled out grabbing her by the neck as she opened her mouth and he filled it with his seed. She sucked greedily, and swallowed it all with a smile on her face. He watched her sit up and look at his cock, as he was still jerking off the last bits of his seed. With her tongue she lapped greedily at the tip of his cock, and swallowing as if not wanting to waste it. This pleased him very much.

“Are you satisfied my king?” she asked while kissing his cock gently.

“With you, yes always. Are you? Sansa my queen?” he asks her tenderly.

“Very much so”, Sansa replies, and he shifts on the bed to lie down next to her. She curled herself into the nook of his arm, and kissed his chest tenderly.

“What is the matter?” he asks glancing sideways.

“Hmmmm” she sighs, and looks up at him. “You must get ready Gendry, you are to be married in a bit, and I need to get myself ready all over again. Not to mention do my hair all over again”, Sansa says pouting slightly.

Gendry smirks. “I am the king, or had you forgotten? The wedding will take place when _I_ say it will, and I do not care if the guests are kept waiting”, as he pulls her back to him. She giggles, and it makes his cock stir again.

“ _Ohhh_ ” she says as she feels his cock harden on her leg.

“ _Oh indeed_ ” he replies. He places a finger in-between her cunt, rubbing the curly thick auburn hair that rested there. Then closing his eyes, he placed a finger in between her warm slit and rubbed, up and down it mildly. She was already getting wet again. This only hardened his cock further.

She inhaled deeply, but she still rocked her hips back and forth in motion with his fingers. He looked at her, knowing that she would understand. So she begins to sit up, so that he could feel her wet cunt rubbing up and down the length of his hard cock. He watches her as if she is prey, and her eyes sparkle. Holding his cock up she rubs the top of his cock on to her nub, then pushes it down her slit, so that it’s near the opening.

“Sit Sansa” and she obeys, plunging his cock back into her cunt. With one hand he pinches her nipple, and then starts to sit up, placing one hand behind her back. Pulling her breast up to his mouth he takes her whole nipple in his mouth, sucking hard on the pink nipple, tugging at it gently with his teeth as she presses his face further into her breast, he opens his mouth wider to take more of her breast. He moves to the next breast, and repeats the action as she continues to roll her hips back and forth. He flicks her nipple with his tongue causing her to bite down on her lip.

Gendry looks at her and kisses her eager mouth, thrusting his tongue hard in to her mouth, as she did the same to his. He wraps his arms around her waist and begins thrusting harder into her as she gasps for air, licking the lobe of his ear, whilst whispering “Gendry” over and over again as she climaxed. She held on to him tighter, as he grinned wickedly looking up at her.

He knew she knew what that grin meant. She climbed off him, and automatically went on all fours. He pulled the bottle out of his draw, and placed a large amount of oily liquid on his palm, then rubbed it up and down his cock. He watched her ass the whole time. He trickled more down the crack of her ass and then smacks one of her cheeks. She let out a small squeal, and buried her head in the pillow nearby. He spread her arse cheeks apart and saw her anal open with the action. Placing one finger in thrust slowly at first, then placed another, and another. This was the same ritual they always had. Her anal had become very accommodating towards his cock, and he planned on keeping it that way.

He watches her slowly raise her head up and turn to look at him. “Please Gendry fuck me”, and that was all he needed, as he pushed his cock in slowly at first. She squealed again and buried her head, until he was all the way in.

Starting slow, he slid his cock inside her gently, holding her hips, and kissing her neck tenderly. She was so tight. He loved the way her anus hugged his cock. The feel of the walls expanding with every movement until they were lucid, and his movements became more free’er.

For her part Sansa lifts her head up from the pillow and leans into the palms of her hands, and begins to rock her hips back and forth meeting his thrusts. He holds onto her hips, and watches his cock move in and out of her anus. His thrusts becoming faster, as his fingers dig into her hips. She moans in satisfaction, as he takes one hand and begins to rub her nub. Within seconds she has climaxed again and he feels her body contracting, with his rhythms. It was enough for him to give one more hard push in to her anus as he felt himself come undone. Only this time instead of pulling his cock out he allows his seed to pour in to her anus. Resting his chest on her back.

They were like that for a few minutes until he felt his cock becoming limp. Slowly he pulled it out of her anus, and flopped back onto the bed.

“I really must get ready my king, otherwise questions will be asked”, she said slowly kissing him, and then getting up. He grabs her by her hand, and stares at her.

“Your right, wait here, and I will bring you a towel and help clean you up”, he says smirking whilst getting up, as he slaps her ass again. She jumps mildly but the smile upon her face told him she liked it, and that she was just as content as he was.

Scooping her into his arms, he walks back towards the bed, her giggles filling his ear, as her long auburn hair brushes against his naked shoulder. Laying her down he begins to gently clean her up as she looks at him shyly, covering her face with her hands.

“Gendry!” she exclaims, but he continues to clean her. Once finished he stares at her face.

“What is the matter Gendry, you seem troubled” she asks gently brushing his arm with her hand.

“If things were different I’d be marrying you. You know that don’t you?” he asks. Wanting to reassure her. He knew she put on a brave face for others, but deep down she wanted him as much he wanted her.

“I know”, she whispers quietly. He sees her eyes fill with sadness and water. “But we can’t. Not now. It’s too late. Perhaps if you both had not been engaged, even then it would still be scandalous to both our reigns but not so much as it would be now.” she says her voice laden with sadness.

He kisses her lips then gets back up, handing her clothes over to her in the process. She begins to get ready as he watches her in the mirror.

_Admittedly the first time they had even kissed he was drunk He was sulking about Arya, always talking about Jon. How Jon her brother on the wall had suffered, how lonely he must feel. He relayed all these feelings to Sansa who did nothing more than lend an attentive ear. She listened to him as a friend would, and when he needed it, she reassured him. Though in his drunken state he had widely misjudged her kindness for something else and kissed her. He felt thoroughly ashamed and guilty, she had too, but she reassured him it would go no further that he needn’t worry. These things happened. She had been so understanding, that he was had pushed the thought of it from his mind._

_Then another time was when Gendry had to travel up to the River lands with Sansa. When they were at her uncle Edmure’s castle, she had looked so beautiful that it was the first time he had really noticed her. She looked beautiful draped in a green velvet dress that Gendry thought that she was easily the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and he knew every man’s eyes were upon her. He had accidently knocked into her spilling his drink over her dress. He had never been more embarrassed, yet she smiled at him warmly, and shrugged it off. He had felt himself blush, yet she brought no attention upon it. Instead she excused herself quietly and went back into her chambers._

_After a few moments a maid had come into to whisper to her uncle that Queen Sansa begs for his forgiveness, but she was feeling rather tired form her journey and has gone back to her solace to sleep._

_The merriment of the evening for Gendry had somewhat disappeared with that announcement from her uncle, and he too begging his own uncles and her uncles forgiveness retired to make his own way to his chambers. Though when he got to the door, he found his legs had not taken him to his room, but to Sansas’._

_Feeling confused and embarrassed he stood outside the door, wondering what he had been doing there, and why? Was she upset because her dress got spoiled? Was she annoyed with him? He knew from previous experiences that lady’s such as Sansa would usually make a song and dance about her ruined dress, but she had been so courteous towards him that he hadn’t thought for a moment that he may have offended her. Had it all been an act? Had she lied to him on his face? He clenched his fists at the thought._

_He knocked on the door furiously, several times, when he heard muffled footsteps, hurry to open the door._

_He remembered seeing her there, her eyes red, and fresh tears stained upon her cheeks. He had never felt so helpless and embarrassed at his own behaviour._

_“My queen, Sansa what is the matter?” he asked as he came in and she closed the door. She moved her hands to her face trying to wipe her eyes, but he pulled her hands away, holding her wrists gently. “Please tell me? Are you upset about the dress? I’m sorry I can ask someone to make another for you…” but he was cut off with her stifled laughter._

_“The dress? No it’s just a stupid dress. I’m not bothered about that. It’s just….”_

_“It’s just what Sansa?” he asks stepping closer towards her till their heads are almost touching._

_“I miss them so much. My family. mother, father, Robb, I would give anything to have them back here with me” she sobs lightly, and he lets go of one of her hands and places it gently on her face. His thumb slowly wiping the tear away from her cheek._

_“I hate having to pretend to everyone that I’m happy, I’m strong, and content, when I am so lonely. Each day I feel as if a part of me is moving further and further away from them. I’m even struggling to remember their faces. Isn’t that horrible?” she asks. Her blue eyes piercing deep into his own. He felt a jolt in his heart, as he stared back at her. She places her hand over his hand that was cupping his cheek and moves it away. Turning away from him she says “I’m a horrible daughter am I not? What sort of daughter am I, if i have forgotten them so easily?” she sobs and he sees her shoulders shake uncontrollably. He walks towards her and places both her hands onto her shoulders and turns her gently towards him._

_“You are not horrible Sansa, with time memories fade. It happens to everyone. You should not be so hard on yourself. It does not make you a bad daughter. You crying still wanting to hold on to them make you a loyal daughter…. Someone that your father would be proud of” he says, and she looks up at him._

_“Your right, forgive me my king, I was weak. I should have returned to the hall, been strong like my father and mother had. And Robb….” She said wiping the tears from her eyes, like a child would._

_It was in that moment he saw the innocence of Sansa; her true self that she hid from the rest of the world. He felt his heart swell with pride that she would choose him to show this side of her._

_He held her gaze for a few moments longer, and before he knew it he was kissing her again. His mouth on hers, his tongue sweeping across her lips, her opening her mouth to let his tongue in. their tongues danced around in each other’s mouth as they moved towards the bed. He felt her tugging at his breeches, and surprised at his own hands cupping her breast, and then moving to undo her night gown. She pulled on his hair as he kissed her neck and squeezed her breast. A pink nipple popped out and his mouth was more than eager to taste it. The first time he had thrusted his cock into her she was just as eager as he. Spreading her legs wider to accommodate the girth of his cock. Both clumsy at first then after a few more thrust they found a rhythm that was comfortable for both, as they made love. She climaxed before he did, and he relished in every spasm. His own pleasure reached its peak a few thrusts later._

_That had been the first night that they had spent together…. Quietly whispering to each other in the dark. Soft kisses… followed by an endless passion, that to this day continues to burn inside both of them……._

He watched as she tied her hair exactly how it was earlier. The dress she wore was a dull grey, the colour of her house, yet on her it seemed to only add to her true beauty.

“She suspects something you know?” Sansa speaks breaking him away from his thoughts, as he turns and looks at her.

“Oh really? And what is that?” he asked bemused that his soon to be dear wife would confess to her sister. Her sister that he was fucking.

“That you are planning to hurt our beloved cousin Jon”, he arches his brow and smiles.

“And does she know when this is going to happen?” he asks.

“No, she never said much for I did not let her speak. I thought it better if I pretended that I not care”, she smiled and he smiled back at her. _Smart and beautiful a lethal combination, he thought to himself._

 _“_ Clever girl, did she buy it?” he asks watching her. Wondering if she had betrayed him.

“I do not think so, I am going to visit her again. She should be dressed by now, but I doubt she is truly aware of the enormity of our plan my king. If anything I do not suspect that she thinks something will happen today. She may try to leave kings landing after the marriage an excuse to visit her family which you should allow her to do so…..” he puts his hand up.

“If she can bare to travel after she has heard the news of her beloved cousin” he says smirking to himself.

“So it is too happen today then? You plan to go ahead?” she asks him.

“Yes, nothing has changed in our plans, besides I cannot stop the plans if I wanted to. The faceless men have already sent their assailant down. If what they say about them is true, then it should look nothing more than an accident, and no one will suspect otherwise”, he says smiling, looking at Sansa.

“Well if Jon is killed and made to look like an accident then we will be fine. Another thing Gendry, you must seem to be supporting Arya. You have to be the doting husband, and more importantly the whole of Westeros must see you supporting your wife. In return the north will support you, and dismiss Arya’s accusations against you as nothing more than ranting’s of a grieving cousin”, she says more confidently sorting her dress once more.

“Amazing, how your mind works. I love you; you know that my true queen?” he asks kissing her once more on the lips.

They break from the kiss, and she smiles back at him. “And I you my king”, she says smiling back at him.

“You have something else?” he asks looking into her inquisitive eyes.

“Daenerys?” she asks, and he winces when he hears the name.

“You would think that with three dragons she would be easy to find, but wherever she is, no one has seen her”, he says. Daenerys was a detail in their plans that he had not managed to detain.

“We will have to tread carefully. If she learns of Jons death she will come back to Westeros, and demand to know, and if Arya has not been convinced enough that it was just an accident then we will have a bigger problem”, she sighs.

“I have sent scouts, but that is not the only problem. Both your brothers? Have you found them?” he asks. He was not the only one who had not tied loose ends.

“You would think it would be easy to find a crippled boy and his group but they are turning out to be more formidable then I had anticipated. Wherever they are, they will have to come out soon, if not for me then for the news of Jons quick demise will reach them” she answers.

He frowns, not liking that there was truly too many loose ends. He watches her but says “For now let us not worry. Let us get through this wedding, once Jon is out of the way, together we will console your sister and take down Daenerys. Then there will be no one stopping us my Queen. **_No one_**.”

They kiss once more, before she turns to leave, and Gendry is left to finish getting ready.

Bran and Rickon missing was a problem, and neither Arya’s wolf nor her pack had been found yet. Though the carnage that they had left behind cost Gendry a great deal of dragons to keep the news from reaching Arya. **_Where the seven hells could a great big dire wolf, with a hundred or so more wolves go?........_**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so yeah!? gendry and sansa wtf? but i hope you all enjoyed it. im very sorry if the descriptions and sex scenes were a bit vague im not very good at writing this kind of stuff, and in general i do struggle to write exactly how i see the scene playing out in my own head! so please forgive me i am still growing my skills! does that even make sense?! who knows! anyways i hope you enjoyed this! 
> 
> oh and thankyou soo much for everyone who reads this, who leaves kudos and comments!i really appreciate it! major ego boosts! :) xxx


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